


Eternal Return

by 2ns



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ending Fix, F/M, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), Movie: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Redemption, Reylo - Freeform, Save Ben Solo, Slow Burn, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22006210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2ns/pseuds/2ns
Summary: Post-Canon / SPOILER ALERTIf you wish to restore Ben Solo, you will have to start by finding balance within yourself.Years after the devastating events on Exegol and far removed from the mortal plane, what little remains of Ben Solo's life force is nearly extinguished.  He is little more than a wraith.  Concerned that if Ben ceases to exist, the effect on Rey will be catastrophic, Luke Skywalker seeks out Rey.Overseeing a burgeoning temple on Tatooine, it appears as though Rey has continued to be a beacon of hope.  The future of the Jedi Order is secure.  On a deeper level, she struggles with the strain of the shattered dyad bond and mourns the loss of Ben Solo.  By the time Luke visits her, Rey's strength is fading as well.Though he refused to appear to him during his mortal life, Anakin Skywalker goads Ben into returning to Rey as an apparition, suspecting the strength of the dyad bond is far greater than the barrier that separates Ben from Rey.  In time, Ben and Rey learn that even death cannot separate them.  Like the Jedi who came before them, they are unable to escape their own destinies or the will of the Force that has bound them together.
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, P, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 20
Kudos: 146





	1. A Legacy of Failure

Anakin’s sharp blue eyes narrowed as he followed the wraith’s progress across the cold grey tiles. A wraith . . . there wasn’t really a better word for what remained of the imposing presence that had once been Kylo Ren.

Soft colorless light filtered through spotless windows that stretched to a ceiling so high that even the Jedi could not perceive the full scale of the tower. The panes were eternally fogged and cast light on precisely one half of an enormous pool in the center of the room. Where the light fell upon the surface of the still water, a perfect mirror formed. Where the pool waited expectantly in shadow, its depths were a bottomless, velvety black. In the shadows, Ben’s form was the faintest blue, lacking form at all from certain angles. In the light, his presence was entirely indistinguishable save for the soft, slow echo of his heels upon the marble.

“Is he going to be alright?” Anakin snapped.

Luke snorted. “Would it matter to you if he wasn’t?” 

In his brief time here, Luke had found little to like in the arrogant eternal youth that was his father. 

“How many times did he beg you for guidance, and you couldn’t be bothered to go to him? You could have done much—“

“There was nothing I could have done,” Anakin hissed. “Even if Snoke hadn’t prevented me from hearing Ben, he’d have listened no better to me than I listened to my master. Do you think I enjoyed watching him repeat my own mistakes?” He leaned his shoulder on the stone arch that formed the portal into the tower and growled, “That wasn’t my role in all of this.”

Luke sighed heavily. “My own arrogance led him to this pass, but you could have stopped it.”

Annakin rumbled skeptically as glowered at his grandson. “Do you think he has any idea what this place is?”

“I think he lingers here because he can feel her presence most strongly here. Master Yoda wants to know the moment he tries to touch the water.”

“If he feels her, why hasn’t he tried?”

“I don’t think he knows how close she is.”

“If you’re so concerned, why haven’t you told him?”

“Because,” a light, cultured voice interrupted before Luke could answer, “Master Yoda fears what remains of young Ben Solo won’t survive the journey. Has Rey diminished as he has?”

Luke inclined his head, greeting his master. “I’ve visited her several times, and she seems to be thriving. The temple on Tatooine has started to attract both adults and younglings from across the galaxy . . .”

Kenobi cleared his throat delicately. “I’ve no doubt Rey has thrown every ounce of her considerable strength and will into rebuilding the Jedi. How has she fared . . . personally?”

“Personally?” Luke glanced reluctantly at his nephew’s progress and caught only a glimpse of his robe as he stepped into the light and faded from sight. He answered evasively, “I’m not sure I take your meaning.”

“I rather think you do.” The old man’s tenor sharpened to steel. “You would do well to visit her and focus on your student for her sake, rather than that of your legacy.”

* * *

He had to admit, Rey had made a much better go of running a temple than he ever had. At first glance, the old homestead still looked like an outdated moisture farm brought laboriously back up to working order. The underground compound that had once been his home had been excavated to create barracks, a library, and a sunken open air training yard. The resulting earth had thriftily been repurposed into squat pillars around the perimeter that resembled fence stiles, but were actually a force-sensitive proximity barrier. Though only a handful of souls could be seen at a time working the farm, beneath the surface, at least two dozen more trained peacefully. As Luke approached, he could feel the earth teeming with life, the Force a glowing web between them, humming softly with the thoughts of Rey’s students.

He easily distinguished Rey’s thread of the Force, a warm, flickering beacon set apart. Luke manifested within her quarters silently, hoping to observe Rey for a time without her noticing.

Rey was slumped boneless in a makeshift chair constructed of threadbare canvas lashed to staves. She smiled weakly at a sheaf of papers in her lap as she thumbed through them. Luke approached, glancing over her shoulder to see the paper. On it was scrawled a likeness that could only be Rey, her hair bound up in three loops, holding the hand of a small child. One arrow pointed at Rey and indicated her name in unsteady Aurebesh. Another arrow pointed at the child, and scrawled beside it a bit more confidently was Ytesh.

“You must be very proud.”

“I’m grateful.” Her voice was barely audible and brittle. If Rey was surprised to see Luke, she made no sign of it. She laid aside the sheaf of papers and sighed. “More and more Force sensitives arrive each month, and for the first time in a very long while, they have someplace safe to go. You know better than anyone how important it is to offer sanctuary for those who truly need it.”

Rey leaned her head back against the taught canvas and raised her eyes to Luke. He had to repress his flinch. Resentful wariness and bitter mistrust crouched in her sunken eyes, bruised with exhaustion. Her skin was stretched taut, cheekbones pressed sharply beneath skin that was sallow, rather than golden. Rey’s desert garb hung limply from her wasted frame. Luke could have counted every rib. Just as the light of Ben’s spirit was wavering and threatening to wink out, Rey was wasting away to the bone.

When he had come to see her before, Luke had avoided looking too closely at Rey, deceiving himself about the part he’d played in her fate. He’d preferred to focus on the temple, flourishing in the desert. Shame skittered down Luke’s spine. He had now failed Rey too.

Luke frowned. “I thought the Alliance was keeping you supplied as a priority outpost.”

“Of course. We receive shipments of fresh food three times a week.”

“Then why are you so thin?”

Rey shrugged off his concern and stood wearily from her chair. She tossed the papers onto a workbench cluttered with assorted texts and some engine component she’d evidently been repairing. “You’ve just caught me on a fasting day.”

“Fasting? Surely you aren’t following the teachings of Quorfon? He was Gallarian, and they can easily thrive a month or so without food.”

Rey shrugged. “It helps.” 

“It helps with what, precisely?”

She pushed things about on the workbench restlessly. “Quorfon said that fasting was key to reaching a state of balance with the Force . . . He said . . .” 

Rey caressed her fingertips over a thin strip of black stone polished to a high gloss. When the low light of Rey’s quarters skittered over the surface, the inscription revealed the name of Ben Solo.

Softly, Luke growled, “Quorfon believed fasting would permit you commune with spirits who had returned to the Force.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “How often are you fasting to try to reach Ben?”

Rey lifted a bony shoulder eloquently and set down the stone. “Three or four days out of five. I pass out if it’s more—“

“How long?” Luke demanded, incensed. “How long have you been starving yourself to try to summon him?”

Her voice was dry, sun-bleached linen snagged on shrapnel and shredding. “It’s been five years since I’ve seen Ben Solo. In all this time, he’s never come.” 

She laughed shakily and rapped her knuckles on the workbench. “I used to be so furious at him when he came. I told him he was a monster, but he rarely even raised his voice. The number of times he begged me to come to him and every time I rejected him . . .” She laid the strip of stone carefully in the center of her work space and concluded softly, “Now I’d do just about anything for a glimpse of him.”

“Rey . . .” Luke had to be cautious, so careful, “Rey, do you still feel him? Can you still feel Ben’s presence?”

“All the time. With the fasting, it’s as though he’s just around the corner. Sometimes it feels like if I could stretch out just a little further, then I’d be able to touch,” her voice broke and she cleared her throat, “ . . . touch him.”

“Ben’s gone, Rey—“

“I know!” She pounded a fist against her too thin chest. “I feel it—“

Luke crossed the room and pressed his face into hers, so close he could feel the warmth of her skin.

“This has to stop. He can’t come to you.”

“Why not? Why would you stop him from coming to me?”

Luke sucked a shuddering breath from the dry air. He’d not tasted his home in a long time, and he’d forgotten its bitterness. 

Gently, he murmured, “I don’t have that kind of power, Rey. He _can’t_ come. Everything Ben Solo was . . . he put it back into you.” Recluctantly, Luke admitted, “There’s too little of Ben Solo left to come to you. I’m sure if he could come, nothing would stand in his way.”

Rey turned sharply away. “Is that what you came to tell me, Master Skywalker? That there is no hope?”

“No . . . Rey . . .” Frustrated, ashamed, Luke murmured, “I came to see how you fared—“

Rey turned back to him, a falsely bright smile on her face and eyes glittering. “I’m well. The temple is thriving . . . Several of the younglings and one of the adults have shown great promise. Continuing what you started has become my life’s work.”

Luke nodded sadly. “Call upon me whenever you need me, and Rey . . .”

“Yes?”

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

The improbably bright smile returned. “Of course. The students here need me.”

Moments after his departure, Luke felt Rey sobbing, and every thread of the Force that was tied to her soul vibrated and thrashed as though being sawed through. He could barely draw breath as the Force tightened around his chest.

* * *

“Where have you been?”

Luke was surprised to find Leia waiting for him when he returned to the Hall of Echoes. He rubbed against the tightness in his chest as he strode down the hall. She glared at him over crossed arms, one brow lifted, clearly fit to burst with annoyance.

“What’s happened?”

“I could ask you the same. Whatever you did, Ben felt it. I’ve never heard a creature make that kind of sound. It sounded as though you were ripping his soul from his body.”

Luke brushed past his sister into the door of the gazing tower, muttering, “Palpatine already did that.”

Ben knelt in the shadows, his hands gripping the edge of the pool and his face pressed to the cold floor. The floor around him had buckled, and great cracks spidered across the ancient marble and ran up the walls. Dust and debris showered onto the floor around the pool, though it never disturbed the smooth water.

“Ben?”

Ben raised his head and looked through Luke, his face haggard with misery. He pressed on the rim of the pool to lever himself back to his feet, but his hand slipped on the smooth lip of the pool and plunged into the water.


	2. Beyond Betrayal, Beyond Death

He couldn’t explain what drew him to this place, why he couldn’t resist the water’s lure. He’d long ago stopped numbering his circuits around the lip of the pool or noticing his passage between light and shadow. Time was measured by the sound of his heels upon the stone, if such things so banal as marble or water or time existed in this place. He wandered through impressions like dreams, no longer making any effort to distinguish which were memory and which were something else. 

Always, she was there in his mind’s eye. Always, she smiled just for him, the way she had for those few moments in which she had been his. These memories and what he saw in the water were all that sustained him now. Every trip around the pool was a lifetime lived and lost, the tower a cocoon in which he persisted, aching for missing shards of his fractured soul.

The tremors started far beneath the floor; the foundations of the hall groaned in misery. The vibrations shook Ben from his delirium, and the surface of the water trembled. A wave of agony and grief struck him, so powerful he was thrown to the ground. Her sobs reverberated from the great heights of the tower, and she cried out for him. Within his own chest, he felt her gasps for breath. 

While he had lived, his name upon her lips had been the only solace he’d felt for a very long time. Now it was torture. An electrified wire had been ignited around his heart, sizzling and cutting through his flesh. His only thought was that wherever she was, he must reach her or what little remained of his soul would disintegrate. He would annihilate whoever had hurt her.

Ben clawed his way across the floor, and had he had fingers they’d have surely have left a trail of blood in his wake. He knelt beside the pool, panting. The writhing agony within him was only growing, and his bones felt as though they were being slowly, inextricably bowed. If only he could rise, he would go to her, find her. Ben grasped the edge of the pool in an effort to pull himself to his feet, but his strength failed, and his hand sank deep into the cool, still water.

“Ben?” Rey’s eyes were wide and staring, her face stained with grief. “Ben!”

“Rey . . .” Forgetting for a moment that he was as insubstantial as shadow, Ben reached for Rey’s face, only to pass through her flesh. Rey gasped as though she could feel his touch, and Ben sighed in bitterest regret. “All that time, you were so close, and they never told me. I could have come to you any time . . .”

“Ben, I can barely see you . . . Ben!”

Rey’s last words were a distant moan as Ben was ripped from the gazing pool.

“Damned fools!” Ben’s mother dragged him back against the stone lip of the pool but addressed the Jedi gathered at the entrance to the tower. “If you’d have told him before now, neither of them would be in this state!”

“Send me back . . .” Ben laid immobile, gasping and too drained to rise. “Drown me for all care, but let me go back!”

“No.” Luke’s hard blue eyes blazed into Ben. “Another few minutes and who knows if we’d have been able to pull you out. I’ve no idea what affect this will have on Rey.”

“You already know what their separation is doing to her,” Leia spat. “How much longer do you think she will survive? Certainly not long enough to train a new generation of Jedi.”

Anakin and Luke exchanged glares and Ben Kenobi pursed his lips in silent reproach.

“I will see to young Master Solo,” Kenobi murmured. “It would be wise to consult with Master Yoda. Perhaps he has some memory of the fate of the last dyad.”

* * *

“Wreckless you have been. Foolish it was to leave this to chance.”

When Master Yoda turned away, Luke rolled his eyes ostentatiously. He perched on the edge of a desk and tracked Yoda’s slow progress through the library. Anakin had mentioned at one point the room had apparently been modeled after an ancient library in the Coruscant temple. He wasn’t impressed.

Luke tried another tack. “Master Yoda, what choice did we have? We’ve no way of restraining Ben, and he was drawn to the gazing pool. If he’d known he could connect with Rey through the pool, we’d never have been able to stop him. There’s still no way of knowing what this has done to her.”

“Hmph. The truth you should have told him.”

“Master Yoda,” Yoda cast a withering glare at Anakin, but he ignored it. “What do you recall of the last Force dyad? What happened when they were separated by death?”

“Separated by death they were not.” He raised a finger and a tome slid off a shelf high above. It gracefully dropped to a convenient height and opened for Yoda’s inspection. “Twins they were, a boy and a girl. Like Rey and Ben, sought after by the Sith they were. Impatient Darth Harkorus was. Wait until maturity he did not dare. On their tenth birthday, sacrificed they were. Perish together they did, their life force devoured by Darth Harkorus.” 

He shook his head sadly. “Greedy was Palpatine. Vader, Skywalker, Snoke, Solo, all did he groom and try to corrupt in hopes of creating a dyad. Greater power did Palpatine hope to harvest by allowing Ben Solo and Rey Skywalker to master the Force. Responsible yet innocent are we all in their suffering. Ashamed we all must be.”

“Master Yoda,” Luke asked gravely, “what will happen to Rey if she continues to be separated from the other half of the dyad?”

Yoda grimaced and screwed his eyes shut. “Unclear the future is. Happened before it has not.” He sighed and opened his eyes. “Survived the ritual no dyad ever has.” 

“But what do you _think_ will happen, Master?” Anakin drawled.

Yoda glanced sadly at Leia. “Inadequate to save her, your son’s sacrifice may be. Enough his love was not.” He patted her hands where they were clasped before her and addressed the other Jedi. “Separated by death the dyad cannot be. Join Ben soon Rey must, or lost entirely will he be.”

“Most of Ben’s remaining life force was passed on to Rey. Can she survive if he is lost?” Luke pressed.

“Too strong the bond of the dyad is. Their separation by great distances the bond would not accept. Separated by death, the bond will not tolerate. Broken it cannot be.”

“Then I must go back to her.” Ben’s soft baritone rumbled through the silence.

His heels echoed briskly as he stepped into the chamber. He winced as every step took him further away from the gazing pool. For the first time since he had materialized within the Hall of Echoes, Ben looked almost substantial, his life force already stronger from just a few moments spent with Rey.

“You look better than since you got here, kid, but we can’t let you go back,” Luke growled.

“I won’t wait here and allow her to die!”

Stepping between Ben and Luke, Kenobi gently suggested, “I don’t think we know for certain what is or is not possible. Never before have the members of a dyad been severed by death. Master Yoda, is there even a single dyad here that we could speak to?”

“Always obliterated their souls have been. Forbidden the ritual is for this reason. An unnatural and selfish distortion of the Force’s power it is.”

“Ben, you don’t understand.” Luke shook his head gravely. “An enormous amount of our own life force is expended every time a Jedi returns to speak with the living. It takes time for that energy to be replenished. That’s why we do it so rarely.”

“But look at him!” Leia gestured to her son, for the first time emanating a fraction of the vibrant blue light that poured copiously from the other Jedi. “They were together only a few moments, and already his life force is stronger than when he left.”

“Perhaps,” Kenobi suggested, “the dyad bond supersedes our connection to the living. If the Force will not permit a dyad to separated even in death, closing the distance between them may strengthen rather than sap the life force of the dyad.”

“And what if it doesn’t? What if Ben is stronger because he is siphoning his life force back from Rey? What if he is killing her?” Luke grimaced belligerently. “We can’t afford to lose Rey.”

Ben glared at Luke. “I’ll die first. You know I will.”

“You’ve come close to killing her several times already.”

“If I had ever wanted her dead, she’d have been dead!” Ben roared. “From the moment I discovered Palpatine was hunting her, I did everything I could to protect her.”

Anakin snorted in amusement, tugging idly on his long padawan braid. “Remind me, Ben. How many times did she reject you?” Anakin leaned back against a table, smirking. Ben’s light flickered and diminished for a breath, but he held his tongue and seethed in silence. “Let’s not forget she nearly killed you. Several times. She likely has a stronger Force affinity at this point than you do.” Anakin raked Ben with unapologetic derision. “She’s certainly got more control. How do you know Rey won’t drain what’s left of your life force and destroy you completely?”

Ben stared determinedly at the floor. Softly, he answered, “If that’s what she wants, she can have it. It’s better than—“

Abruptly, Ben stalked from the library. Leia watched him go, sympathy etched in her features.

Anakin had found some kind of stylus and was tossing it in the air, catching it deftly. “I suggest we let him go. At worst, we’ll be rid of a sniveling child and the Jedi order will be at an end. That’s what Luke wanted anyway.”

Leia narrowed her eyes and sneered, “As though you weren’t personally responsible for nearly annihilating the Jedi all on your own. You really were a vile excuse for a human being, so consumed by your own rage and ambition that you even drove away your own wife.”

Anakin caught the stylus and flung it down on the table. He narrowed his eyes at Leia and viciously spat, “Must run in the family,” before striding after Ben.

“Do not allow yourself to be deceived.” Kenobi laid a hand on Leia’s shoulder. “Anakin sees much of himself in Ben and feels great shame that his own misdeeds were the inspiration for the torture and corruption of his own grandson. Neither is Anakin a stranger to loving a woman beyond the bounds of reason, even to his own destruction.”

“How can you defend him after everything he did?”

Kenobi smiled sadly at Luke. “Some bonds cannot be severed through mere betrayal . . . or even death.”

* * *

“Does she love you?”

Ben glanced up from his contemplation of the still pool in the gazing tower. He scrutinized the seemingly younger man leaning against the frame of the door, disgusted that in the end, this bitter, empty youth was all Darth Vader had turned out to be. Ben thoroughly wished he had a saber to hand, but wasn’t sure if he’d use it on Anakin Skywalker or himself.

He shrugged bitterly. “We are dyad. It doesn’t matter if she does or not. We are bound by the Force.”

Anakin glanced contemptuously at the pool. “Your feelings betray you. Your love for her consumes you . . . it’s the only thing that binds you to this place.”

Ben refused to respond, so Anakin plunged on. “I felt that way about a woman once. I pursued her even when it didn’t make sense, when she clearly didn’t want me, when it defied every rule and destroyed everything I’d ever wanted and worked for. My love for her defined who I would be for the rest of my life.” 

“If Padme was on the other side of that pool, I’d rip the entire universe apart all over again if there was even the slightest chance that I could see and hold her again.”

“The part of me they tried to twist into you is the part of me that drove Rey away.”

Anakin’s eyes smoldered and the air around him crackled subtly. “The part of me that was Vader was all that was left when my wife was taken from me. You stopped becoming Kylo Ren the moment you laid eyes on Rey. If you lose her, what will be left of you?”

“Nothing.”

“Then what is holding you back?”

Ben glared defiantly at Anakin. “Nothing.”


	3. Beneath the Mask

When Ben found her this time, Rey was waiting for him.

“How long this time?”

“Three days. How long was it for you?”

“Hours.” 

Ben reached for Rey, and she almost felt almost solid, present. Rey wrapped her arms around his neck, and they had real weight upon his shoulders. Though the fear of her inevitable rejection clawed at his mind, he sought her mouth with his own, praying she would accept his kiss. He was desperate to make the most of every precious second stolen from the Force.

When she broke away, Rey pressed her forehead against Ben’s and tangled her fingers into his hair. “How long can you be here?”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t know. They didn’t want me to come again . . . they think . . .” 

Lies . . . he had been told so many disgusting, hateful lies. He hated the thought of lying to Rey, even if a convenient lie could prolong this moment. Neither could he bear telling the truth, only to risk Rey spurning him yet again, this time to preserve his existence.

“Tell me.” Rey’s eyes searched his. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

She laid a hand across his cheek, and the warmth of her skin burned through him. “I know. Tell me.”

Ben captured Rey’s fingers and pressed a kiss to each palm. The decision made, he couldn’t look at her.

“My uncle, Master Yoda, they think coming to you like this may burn up what remains of my life force.” Rey immediately tried to pull her hands away, but Ben clung to her fingers.

“Ben, no. You have to go. I won’t let you do this—“

“Listen to me! Please! Ben Kenobi doesn’t think it will work that way for us. He thinks it might be different because we are dyad. Master Yoda says the bond won’t _permit_ us to be separated, even by death. But . . .”

“But . . . what?”

“Luke is worried that if I burn out . . . it might destroy you as well, and all hope of rebuilding the Jedi will be lost.”

Rey laid her head on Ben’s chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I feel like I’m dying anyway. I can feel you, somewhere so far away, trying to pull me closer but growing more distant every moment.”

Ben stroked a hand down Rey’s thin back. “Then let me go. Let me burn away so that you will be free.”

“No!” Rey’s eyes were wide and stark in her too thin face. “Master Skywalker is right. I know it. I can feel it! If you are gone, there will be nothing of me left. I need to come to you before it is too late.”

“No!” Ben held Rey’s face between his palms. “You’re the only hope left for these people. There’s too little hope left for any of us. Don’t throw it away.”

He stroked his thumbs over her hollow cheeks. He couldn’t believe the change in her.

“Whatever you’re doing here, it’s killing you, and it doesn’t bring me any closer.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, terrified that even now, he’d spent too much time with her, wasted too much of the very limited grace granted to them. 

“We need to find out if my return strengthens or weakens you. The Jedi will have to see for themselves that my coming does you no harm.”

“How?”

Ben screwed his eyes shut. They’d never trust his word. Someone else would have to come and see Rey . . . Ben cursed himself soundly. He knew immediately who would most want to see the result of his visit, and he was the one Jedi Rey would be furious to speak with. 

“You have to trust me. When he comes, don’t be afraid.”

“Afraid of who?”

“Anakin Skywalker.”

“Anakin Skywalker . . . you don’t mean—“

“If I can come to you again, I will. If I can’t . . .” Ben drew a deep breath, and it felt as though his chest would implode with the pain of not telling her, even though the words felt stale and meaningless on his tongue. “Then know that this,” Ben guided her hand to lay over his heart, “this was real. It was always real for me.”

“But Ben, isn’t Anakin Skywalker—“

Ben withdrew back to the gazing tower before she could finish. Her words reverberated through the tower, the intensity of her horror sending showers of dust and stone chips falling from the ceiling.

_Vader . . . Anakin Skywalker was the name of Darth Vader._

Ben slammed back into his own reality amid chaos.

“You provoked him into going back to her!”

“You’re damn right I did. It’s the only thing that will save either of them, and you almost had him convinced it was impossible. It’s no wonder he’s so conflicted!”

Leia Organa was nose to nose with Anakin Skywalker, a pair of seething adders.

“Stop.” Ben was able to push himself back to his feet when he drew his hand from the pool this time, though he felt as though he’d been drug behind a star destroyer for a parsec or two. “I need someone to check on her. See if our contact strengthened or weakened her.”

Immediately Anakin pronounced, “I’ll go.”

“Like hell you will. I’m going with you.”

“Leia, no. You’ve only been here as long as Ben. You’re not strong enough. Let me go,” Luke offered.

“He’s my son, and she’s like a daughter to me. You’ve done enough, Luke.” Leia threw a filthy glare at Anakin, who smirked in triumph. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Rey stood panting with her hands braced on a table, her teeth bared in a silent growl. Her eyes focused on precisely the place where Anakin and Leia had chosen to materialize, as though she had predicted their arrival. Anakin was sure she couldn’t see them, but the girl was nonetheless vibrating with power, the faintest tendrils of lightning dancing over her arms.

Anakin smirked down at his daughter. “All she had to do was see him. She’s preparing to fight.”

“I know you’re there.”

Anakin raised his chin, but before he could speak, Leia laid a hand on his arm. “Anakin, no!”

“I said, I _know_ you’re there.” Rey straightened, hands slightly outstretched as though about to reach for her saber, and the barely controlled lightning crawled to her shoulders. Tendrils of stray hair curled and singed, and the air was filled with the sickly sweet stench of burning hair and the tang of ozone. “I can feel you watching me. Where is Ben Solo? Why are you keeping him from me?”

Anakin shook Leia off. “I’m the one who sent him back to you. You should be thanking me.”

“Who are you? Ben said he would send Anakin Skywalker to me.”

Anakin smiled broader and flourished an elegant, if sarcastic bow. “Not in the flesh, precisely, but here nonetheless.”

Rey raked her eyes over Anakin from head to foot. “No . . . You’re not Darth Vader.”

Anakin’s smile soured and became venomous. “You of all people should know a man is more than the mask he wears.”

Rey narrowed her eyes. “And when the mask is stripped away?”

Anakin sobered. “What he holds most precious is revealed, and he can no longer protect what matters most. We both know what was left when Kylo Ren was stripped bare.”

“I. Want. Him. Back.”

“What if a few minutes with Ben Solo could cost you your life?”

“Then we will fulfill our destiny and return to the Force, a dyad made whole.”

Anakin smiled grimly in response. Rey was a pale shadow of the peerless warrior she had once been. However, the listless waif Luke had described was gone. In her place was a pillar of blackest rage in lithe feminine form, power crackling and just barely restrained by a fraying ribbon of light. Anakin had no trouble seeing Ben’s attraction. Vengeance and hope and passion and fury . . . she was absolutely magnificent.

“Our common enemy nearly destroyed every one of us, _Master Skywalker_.” His mouth twisted as though the words were acid dripping from his lips. “You alone remain to find the balance we have all sought. If you wish to restore Ben Solo, you will have to start by finding balance within yourself.”


	4. The Padawan

“Balance,” Rey spat.

She had thought of nothing else in the days since Anakin Skywalker had visited her. She was sick of the word. It had been the boundary and impetus of her world for far too long. Learning of her heritage, of the black and twisted path her own tainted blood made through her veins, Rey’s comprehension of the word ‘balance’ had been destroyed. She had believed she was the light to Ben’s darkness, that if only he would put down his hate, his path towards the light would be clear. It was a mortal blow to realize that she was the darkness incarnate, carrying but a single bright spark. Ben should have been the great light, instead corrupted to near extinction by her own foul bloodline.

Rey wrenched open the door to her quarters but was brought up short by a Correllian, his knuckles raised to rap upon the door. His hazel eyes lit with pleasure at seeing Rey, though his face was lined with concern.

“Master Skywalker, are you well?”

Rey crammed her anger back down beneath her ribs and pulled her feelings in tight. The lightning that had been dancing along her fingertips snuffed out. Despite the great turmoil within her, she had no desire to unleash the wrath that was raging within her against her innocent padawan.

Oreth See had been the first off-world Force-sensitive to arrive on Tatooine. He’d arrived in a sleek Corellian private cruiser and had pledged a significant fortune towards establishment of the temple if Rey would consent to train him. Though skeptical of the offer, Rey began testing him as she did all supplicants to the temple, and found him to be both exceptionally empathic and gifted with the Force, particularly with the healing arts. She’d been surprised how willing Oreth had been to exchange his fine clothes for coarse padawan robes and shear away his rich chestnut locks.

The spiritual aspects of the Force had come naturally to Oreth. He’d shown little interest in combat training, though he alone of all Rey’s students had the maturity to move into the next phase of his studies. His quiet, calming demeanor was a balm most days to Rey, and she had come to rely on his steadiness in managing the demands of running the temple.

On a more personal level, Oreth had perceived the conflict and turmoil within Rey, but had refrained from pressing her about its nature. It was Oreth’s hand that prepared most of Rey’s meals, his eyes that saw when she was too tired to continue training, and his gentle authority that held students and supplicants alike at bay when she needed rest or solitude. Rey was grateful for his kindness and care. She’d noted his aristocratic good looks, though with the same detachment she’d have noticed the color and condition of a salvaged droid. It would have been easy to love Oreth, had Ben Solo’s absence not been a constant seething, aching void, almost physical in its manifestation.

“Master Skywalker?”

“What?” Rey blinked, recalling herself. “Oreth, of course. How can I help you?”

“Master Skywalker, when did you last eat?”

Rey’s gaze dropped to the tray of steaming food in Oreth’s hands. As ever, the tray was laden with enough food for four grown men. It was far too much for Rey to consume, especially when she’d already been fasting for two days. The rich aroma of spiced rice and roasted meat was filling the corridor, and Rey’s stomach voiced its protest loudly. She grimaced and pressed both hands to her belly.

“Please, Master, you must eat.”

Rey was about to decline, when she recalled Anakin Skywalker’s warning. _If you wish to restore Ben Solo, you will have to start by finding balance within yourself._ She’d be damned before she started taking advice from Darth Vader, but the ritual fasting had brought Ben no closer to penetrating the veil between them. Reluctantly, Rey opened her door wider to allow Oreth to carry the tray into her quarters.

Oreth began tidying away the detritus of her workbench, stacking papers neatly, arranging tools into a rusty ration tin on the corner of the table, and reverently standing the column of black stone into its plinth. Oreth himself had ordered the memorial to be cut and shipped specially from Corellia after Rey had mentioned that she had nothing of Ben’s to remember him by.

Softly, Oreth said, “Shutting yourself away and fasting until you’re too weak to stand won’t bring him back, Master.”

“Get out.”

Oreth turned back to Rey, stricken. “Forgive me. I know that you still mourn him—“

“I will mourn him until the day I rejoin him in the Force.”

“Yes,” Oreth answered, an icy edge to his normally warm tenor, “so you’ve told me.” Before closing the door behind him, Oreth gently reminded her, “I hope that is many years from now, and I will gladly serve at your side until you do.”

Rey wanted to scream. She wanted to weep. Defeated, she sat down at the stool before the workbench and picked up a fork, barely registering that there were two forks on the tray, two cups. Oreth must have hoped to dine with her, likely having something of importance to discuss.

_If you wish to restore Ben Solo, you will have to start by finding balance within yourself._

Five years’ hope destroyed in as few minutes by Luke Skywalker, and then reignited only days later by, of all people, Darth Vader. She balanced the fork in her hand, considering. Had it been a warning? Was this a test? Worse, an ultimatum? 

Rey had feared Kylo Ren. Fought him, fled from him, hid from him, resisted and spurned him. She’d learned of every massacre he’d overseen, every slaughter he’d led. Obsessively memorized the details of every battle he’d been in. Finn had expounded in gory detail on every cruel and sadistic act Kylo Ren had committed. She’d felt the talons of Kylo’s mind against hers, only a caress, but the threat had been palpable.

Yet when the mask came off, it was Ben Solo’s eyes that bored into her, his soft baritone that resonated within her. He had laid his soul bare time and time again, reaching out to her in thinly veiled desperation. His loneliness and pervading sense of worthlessness were the same echoing crevasse that yawned within her psyche. Desire, hope, passion, rage, devotion, sacrifice . . . Ben had offered her everything he was. It had been rich and fulfilling and had made her feel strong and whole. His absence was an abscess, rotting her from within.

Ben had come to her, armed with only hope and formidable command of the Force, but their shared destiny had pressed them both to the razor’s edge of a precipice that could not support them. How different could things have been had she trusted him sooner? What part had her own darkness and obduracy played in Ben’s fate?

Kylo Ren . . . Ben Solo . . . made up words. No matter what Rey called him, he was the other half of her soul, and it had been torn away from her.

_If you wish to restore Ben Solo, you will have to start by finding balance within yourself._

If Ben could seize her soul back from the Force and pour his own life force back into her corpse, she could damn well master herself. Rey speared a strip of roast meat as though it had offended her personally and crammed it into her mouth. An ultimatum, a test, a warning . . . it didn’t matter what this was. If the Force wanted to wage a battle of wills with her to reclaim Ben Solo, then she’d rise to the challenge. Rey took another bite and chewed mechanically as though tearing through bantha hide. If there was a bargain to be struck with fate or the Force, and the cost was balance, she’d do what she had always done. She would prepare. She would train. She would fight.

_Rey, never be afraid of who you are._

Rey watched her reflection in the column of stone, interrupted by the Aurebesh of Ben’s name. Every Skywalker had been scoured from the sky by Palpatine. Rey scooped up the fragrant rice and consumed it with the same determination as if she was chewing shrapnel. If she must accept her lineage, if she must find peace with who she was, then so be it. This Palpatine was going to take her Skywalker back. Even if she had to rip his soul out of the Force with her bare hands.

* * *

In the weeks following her visit from Anakin Skywalker, Rey threw herself into her duties at the temple with renewed vigor. She joined Oreth in dawn meditations with the younglings. She shoveled down every bite of every meal he presented her, though she was always careful to avoid meeting his hopeful eyes, politely grateful and no more. In the evening, after she was certain each of her students were safely tucked into their beds and sentries were watching over them, she trained. She trained with staff and saber and honed her skill with the Force until she practically had to crawl into her bunk. She chased that ever elusive ideal, balance, with single-minded purpose. If balance was what was required to bring back Ben Solo, then she would achieve it.

Nearly four months passed without another visitation from the departed Jedi masters, and Rey was beginning to lose hope again. She began to think that she had dreamed her conversation with Anakin Skywalker. It was preposterous, really, that Darth Vader himself would want to speak with her about her bond with Ben Solo. Rey had nearly convinced herself that those few moments with Ben had been fevered dreams, nothing more than hallucinations caused by the heat and fasting. She began to accept that this place, this life, and the hollowness within her left by Ben Solo’s death was all that the Force had destined for her. 

“The condensers on the west pasture aren’t working again. I’m going to have to take a speeder out there at first light and see if I can get them back online.” 

Rey stepped into her cramped quarters shaking out her sweat-damp hair from an evening run across the dunes. Oreth stopped respectfully at the threshold of her room, waiting for her permission before following her into her personal chambers. 

She continued distractedly, toeing out of her boot, which had collected a stone, “Do you think you can review the end of the Republic period with the younglings? You’re much better at remembering all of the history than I am, and I’m sure there’s something I’ve forgotten—“

Rey shook the sand out of her boot into a chipped bowl beside the door. She leaned against the doorframe to remove the other boot and glanced at Oreth, but stopped short when she saw him.

He was different than she remembered him. Only in his own memories had Rey seen him dressed in the coarse wool Jedi robes he had worn as a padawan. Rey’s mouth popped open and she gaped. Gone were the heavy cowl, mask, and billowing cloak of the Knights of Ren. In their place was Ben Solo as he should have been had Palpatine and Snoke not intervened in his life. 

At first glance, he appeared calm, serene. Rey knew better. Though his hands were folded before him, she noticed how Ben clenched his hands when his eyes fell on Oreth. Ben’s mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed at the intruder.

“Master Skywalker? Is everything alright?”

Ben frowned slightly, trying hard to keep his emotions in check. “You are engaged. I should have known. Please forgive the intrusion—“

“No! Wait! Don’t go!” Rey nearly toppled over as she wrenched the offending boot from her foot and tossed it aside. “I’ve been waiting months to see you. Please . . .” Rey reached for him. “Please, stay.”

Ben flicked his eyes toward Oreth. “And your guest . . .?”

Rey didn’t dare take her eyes from Ben, lest he disappear the moment she looked away. She flapped her hand vaguely in her padawan’s direction.

“Oreth, please, go.”

Oreth ventured a step into Rey’s quarters, and the effect was immediate. Ben hissed with displeasure and reached for a saber that was no longer strapped to his hip. He realized his mistake immediately and tried to regain his composure with a muttered curse and a dark glare at Oreth.

“Master Skywalker, who is here?”

“Ben . . .” She whispered his name like a prayer she dared not speak aloud. “It’s Ben.”

Oreth’s face fell and he nodded gravely. “Of course. You’ll want to speak with him alone. Perhaps we can continue in the morning . . . ?”

When Rey didn’t respond, Oreth quietly closed the door.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“I’ve been waiting for you for weeks and months. What has kept you?”

“Skywalker wanted to be sure my arrival would in no way disrupt the work you are doing here in rebuilding the Jedi order.”

Rey ventured a few steps closer, near enough to be bathed in the blue glow of Ben’s presence. “Which Skywalker?”

“Luke,” Ben growled his uncle’s name with distaste.

“What about . . . Anakin? Is he still there with you?” Rey queried nervously.

“Yes. He has been my most vocal advocate.” Ben took a step closer to Rey. “After seeing that you were fine, he insisted I be permitted to return to you. Are you . . . fine?”

Rey’s lips trembled. “Yes, the temple is flourishing and most of the younglings have learned to levitate. Oreth’s begun combat training, and . . .”

Rey was suddenly struck dumb, unable to imagine what else she could say. The truth was her existence had become a sequence of distractions to occupy her mind and weary her body while she waited for Ben to return to her. She clamped her mouth shut to trap the sob that threatened to escape her throat. 

“. . . and . . .”

“Rey . . .” Ben breathed.

“ . . . no, nothing’s fine because he tore my soul in half and sent you into oblivion!”

Ben held out his hand and Rey took it. He pressed her against his chest, and though he hadn’t the same unyielding presence she remembered, he felt much more solid and present than his hazy cerulean outline suggested.

“I’m still here, and you’re still here, and there’s nothing that can take us any further apart than we are right now.”

“This isn’t the way it was supposed to be.” She smeared snot and tears away with the heel of her hand, wiping it on her desert robes. “This isn’t the future the Force promised me. You were supposed to turn and we were supposed to have—“

Rey stopped short. It did no good to dwell on what had been so cruelly snatched away.

“I did turn back to the light. I came back for you.” Ben smiled sadly down at Rey and pushed her hair back behind her ear. “This isn’t what the Force showed me either. All that we can do now is make the best of what we’ve been given.”

Bitterly, she asked, “What good is that?”

“It’s better than nothing at all.” Ben searched Rey’s face, and when she seemed unable to disagree, he said, “Tell me of the temple.”

It was hard, at first, finding the words to tell Ben of those first few weeks. She’d been an empty husk once the initial joy and relief of their so-called victory on Exegol grew stale. Poe and Finn had bounced from world to world, struggling with the complexities of coordinating fleets that came from dozens of star systems, hundreds of worlds. Though at first they’d pled, demanded, and cajoled her to help them, in the end, the deafening silence within her won out. She’d booked passage on a late-night personnel carrier bound for Tatooine and never looked back. It hadn’t taken long for Poe to come for his droid, and though BB-8 hadn’t wanted to go, in the end, she’d found herself in the same place she had started. Alone with the sand and the wind.

Over the years, the messages from her friends had come less frequently, especially as she failed to return any of them. Rose had been the last to give up on her. Her final message had been a piquant entreaty that Rey should take care of herself, reminding her they were only a frequency away. That had been over two years ago. Oreth had even taken over managing the shipments of supplies from the Alliance. Rey could no longer cope with the overwhelming effort of appearing whole for those she loved.

She’d found solace in the children, though. They often arrived unaccompanied, starving, neglected, or otherwise abused. The first had been Zuulyn, a Twi’lek girl of only seven who had been born in an outlying slave colony nearly halfway around the planet. She had arrived at the temple delirious, having walked for several days without water and so badly burned by Tatooine’s twin suns that it had taken days for Rey to repair Zuulyn’s delicate skin. Zuulyn said that one day, she’d felt an irresistible urge to walk out into the shifting sands. She had told such fantastical tales of those days of delirium in the desert that Rey wasn’t sure if they were true or if the heat had thoroughly addled the poor child. 

Rey told Ben how each of her students had arrived. The hardest to speak of was Oreth. Ben’s mouth had grown hard and his eyes had glittered like stone.

“You are more to him than a teacher. Surely you can feel it?”

Rey shrugged uncomfortably. “He knows that I am still mourning . . .”

Softly, Ben answered, “I’m dead Rey. He knows someday you will come to accept this.”

Rey rose abruptly and turned away from Ben to watch the sands blow through the thin slip of window in her quarters. “I will never stop feeling the tug of the thread binding us together.”

Ben didn’t press the matter. Instead, he stood behind Rey, clasping her shoulders and waiting for the dawn to arrive. As the first of Tatooine’s sun’s peeked over the horizon, Rey yawned broadly.

Ben murmured in her ear, “You should sleep.”

Rey allowed her head to fall back against Ben’s chest. “How can I sleep? I’m afraid if I close my eyes, you’ll be gone. I’ve no idea when or if I will ever see you again.”

“This bond between us, the dyad . . . the Jedi have confirmed that it is unlike any other Force bond they have seen. Departed Jedi are only able to sustain a visit to the mortal realm for a limited time. It saps them of their life force. In our case, our shared life force appears to be replenished rather than exhausted when we are together. If you would allow it, they think I could remain here . . . almost indefinitely.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” Ben admitted reluctantly. “I’ve been with you several hours. This was meant to be a final test of the dyad bond to see if we both could survive a longer visit. It is better than I had hoped for.”

“If you leave today, you are certain to be able to return?”

“Nothing is certain.” Ben traced the contours of Rey’s face delicately with his fingertips. “The only certainty in my life was my eventual death. There is nothing preventing me from returning . . . if you want me to return.”

Rey studied Ben’s face and realized how young he looked. His eyes were hungry, anxious for her affection, fearful of her rejection, but they lacked the hunted aspect she’d come to know. Gone was the crazed terror and rage that had been the result of Palpatine’s manipulation and Snoke’s abuse. Her curiosity piqued, Rey slid her fingers into Ben’s hair, and behind his right ear, she found a smooth, thin plait of hair.

“Ever the student, never a master,” Ben wryly jested.

Rey allowed the braid to slip through her fingers as she considered. Though the man before her carried the scars of Kylo Ren scribed into his soul, the Force had chosen this face, still young and untouched, for Ben to carry into eternity. Perhaps if the Force could return Ben to the beginning, before he was damaged, she could offer him the same grace.

“Do you remember being Ben Solo?”

He frowned deeply. “I was always Ben Solo. I failed to become Kylo Ren, just as I failed at everything else I ever set my hand to.”

Rey tugged on the padawan’s braid. “Do you remember being _this_ Ben Solo?”

He bowed his head. “He’s all that remains.”

“I would like to know him,” Rey flicked her eyes up at Ben, “Perhaps we can discover who we should have been, together.” She laced her fingers into his. “I’m ready to let the past die.”

Ben released a deep breath. “So am I.”

Rey nodded and was suddenly unable to contain an expansive yawn. “Oreth will be here soon. I should sleep.” Rey glanced up at Ben again expectantly.

“I’ll have to leave soon, but I can wait until you are sleeping.”

Rey laid down but watched Ben from beneath drooping lids. He sat on the floor beside her bunk, his eyes on a level with her own. 

She had nearly drifted off when he asked softly, “Was there anything about me, about Kylo Ren, that you could stomach at all?”

Rey took a long, deep breath and sighed. “You were so powerful . . . the Force radiated from you in waves, just like it does now. You were the darkness incarnate, and it was so inviting. It called to me, but so did that spark of light within you.” She opened her eyes and gazed at him across the edge of her bed. “They still call to me. You helped me find my way to the Force.”

Rey scooted closer to the edge to bring her face closer to Ben’s. “You were terrifying, but so . . . beautiful.” She brushed aside a lock of Ben’s hair. “You never hold anything back. When we are together, really together, there is no conflict. Not in you, not in me.” She smiled sadly. “I hope the next time I face death, you will still be at my side.

“There is no difference between the darkness in Kylo Ren and the light in Ben Solo. It’s just the same Force, flowing through us both.”

Ben sighed deeply, and he stroked the bridge of his long nose against Rey’s. As though the words would choke him, he pressed his eyes shut and murmured, “Thank you.”


	5. Redemption

“She’s doing it again.” Koriolana whispered, pointing behind her hand at Master Skywalker.

The other girls looked up eagerly from the shade of a broad awning in the training yard. Rey laughed and swung her saber broadly, only to have it strike something invisible in mid-air that not only stopped it, but turned it easily. Rey twisted away but was brought up short, frozen in the act of turning into another stroke as though held there by an unseen force. The position defied gravity, one toe barely resting on the sand while the other leg was apparently frozen in mid-leap. She lifted her chin and murmured something before closing her eyes and sighing. Moments later, Rey slid gracefully back to the ground with a sweet smile.

“Who do you think she is fighting with?” Litef, a young Anzati girl, whispered.

“She’s not fighting with anyone,” Ytesh, one of the human girls, answered. She took a long draught of tepid water. “She’s just talking to herself while she practices. She does it all the time.”

“I think she’s talking to Luke Skywalker,” Litef declared.

Zuulyn, nearly seventeen, was the eldest of the young female students. She shook her head sagely. “Stop thinking about the answer and _feel_ your way towards it.” She ruffled Litef’s hair affectionately and teased, “If you weren’t such a P’w’eck, you’d have felt his presence by now.”

Koriolana whipped her head around, her many beaded braids clacking together and nearly slapping Ytesh in the face. “Who?”

Zuulyn sighed the long-suffering sigh of an overburdened older sister. “Ben Solo. Can you truly not feel him?” Zuulyn’s eyes unfocused and became misty. “The Force is so powerfully present in him, I don’t understand how everyone doesn’t feel it. Maybe everyone just assumes they feel her . . .” she mused.

“Why is he here? Isn’t he supposed to be really dead?” Ytesh asked.

“Even in death, he refuses to leave her, his love for her is so strong.” Zuulyn frowned and her gaze sharpened. “I’m not sure he _can_ leave her.”

Litef wrinkled her nose. “Ben Solo was a bad man.”

Zuulyn blinked. “Kylo Ren was a bad man. Ben Solo was her man.”

“I expect this means you’ve mastered the Hotu forms?”

The girls nearly jumped out of their skins. They’d been so busy speculating about their master, they’d not noticed her approaching.

Zuulyn stood. “I have. Would you like to see, Master Skywalker?”

Zuulyn strode back to the center of the training yard with the short polished stave she favored as a practice saber. She started the form again, but listened carefully to her master murmuring softly throughout.

When she’d finished, Rey commented, “I’d like you to go back to the fourth stance, that low one where—“

“No, Master.”

Rey’s brows shot down. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

The corner of Zuulyn’s lip curled, and the girls sucked in a collective breath. Zuulyn had attained reputation for such stunts, and the results were usually entertaining, explosive, or both.

Zuulyn bowed quickly. “My apologies, Master Skywalker. I’m pleased to show you stance four again, but,” she pointed sharply to Rey’s left with the practice saber, “I’d like to hear him tell me himself what I’ve done wrong. I believe his experience with this form is greater than even your own, Master.”

A smile blossomed slowly across Rey’s face and her eyes sparkled. “How long have you known he was there, Zuulyn?”

Zuulyn bowed again, slowly, in the direction of the empty space at Rey’s side. “I felt Master Solo’s presence the moment he arrived in this place.” She pursed her lips. “The place where I was before . . .” a haunted look crossed her eyes, “. . . they nearly killed me for speaking to the departed. I’d have to be cut off from the Force entirely to overlook Master Solo’s presence.

“Please, Master Solo,” Zuulyn bowed formally, “I’d like it if you would show me.”

Rey turned her head into her shoulder and murmured, “It was going to happen sooner or later anyway. It might as well be today.”

Ben materialized fully in blaze of cerulean. He frowned fiercely at the Twi’lek, but Zuulyn only lifted her chin in challenge. 

He smirked at her and murmured beneath his breath, “I see why you like this one. She’s just like you.”

Rey beamed up at Ben.

Ben nodded curtly at Zuulyn. “You’d get more power if you moved that leg back and opened up your stance.” When Zuulyn merely cocked a brow in challenge, Ben sighed, and his lips quivered with a repressed smile. “Fine. I’ll show you.”

Ben shrugged out of his sweeping robes and dropped them in front of the girls carelessly. A collective “Ooooh!” went up from the girls, and Rey clamped down on her lips to prevent her giggle from escaping. Ben threw a dark look over his shoulder, but Rey only gestured for him to continue, her eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m going to need a saber, Master Skywalker.”

Ben flicked his fingers, and Rey’s saber detached from her belt and sailed through the air, igniting as soon as it reached Ben’s hand. Again, a chorus of heartfelt appreciation rose from the girls. A few of the boys were finding excuses to wander closer as well. For effect, he twirled the saber, loosening his joints. He glanced over at Rey, openly smirking now.

Rey folded her arms and leaned against the post of the awning, no longer able to hide her amusement. “If Master Solo will be gracing us with his expertise, perhaps we will have to build him his own.”

Ben winked at the girls and turned back to Zuulyn. He paced out several feet from her and together, they assumed the stance for the form salutation. 

Ben glanced out the corner of his eye and noted, “I believe Master Skywalker has asked you to square your shoulders on that stance a number of times.”

“Yes, Master,” she chirped. Immediately, Zuulyn straightened her back and snapped her shoulders back to emulate Ben’s posture.

Ben lifted his chin a fraction of an inch. “Let’s begin.”

For nearly an hour, Ben and Zuulyn ran the form over and over. He gently corrected her posture, noted where her stance should be widened, suggested improvements for her timing and breathing. Eventually, every one of the younglings found a place beneath the awning and watched. By the time Ben was satisfied with Zuulyn’s progress, her delicate blue skin was crisping into a livid violet, and she was wringing wet. Never had Zuulyn been so studiously attentive. Ben bowed solemnly to her before dismissing her, and Zuulyn bowed so low her lekku nearly brushed the sand.

“The immortal warrior finally shows himself.”

Rey glanced up to see Oreth at her shoulder, his face carefully blank. “It was time. It’s not in his nature to stay silent and do nothing.”

Evenly, Oreth answered, “I think we are all familiar with _Master Solo’s_ inclinations, even if we haven’t all enjoyed them first hand.”

“You forget yourself, Oreth.”

“I don’t trust him with the younglings. Kylo Ren’s vicious temper and upredictable—“

Oreth sucked in a sharp breath, and Rey turned to follow his gaze. 

After Zuulyn’s dismissal, most of the younglings had drifted back to their appointed tasks. Many still gazed curiously over their shoulders at Ben or enviously at Zuulyn, who had returned to practicing on her own with renewed vigor and focus. Litef, however, had other ideas. 

Youngest amongst the temple students, Litef bored quickly with Zuulyn’s instruction. Ben’s luminous robes, however, were endlessly fascinating. She’d wriggled into them, and was completely buried in their depths, the deep hood falling so far over her face that it reached nearly to her waist. Ben stood over his robes considering the softly giggling swath of wool.

Without warning, he swooped down and scooped them into his arms. Litef roared with laughter. Oreth darted forward, but Rey restrained him with a hand against his chest. Ben gently shook the robes, careful to hold the Anzati fast.

“Ugh! I think I’ve got a womp rat in my robes!”

Ben loosed his grip on Litef, and she slid to the ground. Peeking from beneath the hem of the robe, she giggled, “I’m not a womp rat!”

Ben pulled his robes back onto his broad shoulders. “What a relief!” He knelt before her and murmured, “You know, you’re the youngest Anzati I’ve ever met . . . and the prettiest too.”

Litef’s eyes widened. “Have you met other Anzati’s?”

Ben smiled sadly. “Only a few, but they were very old.” He raised his hand near Litef’s cheek. “May I?”

Litef nodded uncertainly. Ben laid his palm against Litef’s cheek, his long fingers cradling the back of her head. He closed his eyes, frowning slightly, but after a moment, he released her.

He brushed his thumb over the opening in her cheek where her proboscis resided. “Do you remember when they did that to you?”

Litef nodded convulsively.

“You can’t eat, can you? The Anzati way?”

Her lip trembled and a single tear slid down her cheek. Litef shook her head.

“Let’s see what we can do about that.” Ben gathered Litef into his arms and carried her to where Oreth and Rey stood watching. Litef had found Ben’s padawan braid and was playing it with it between plump fingers.

Addressing Oreth, he said, “Rey tells me you have a great talent with the healing arts. I don’t know if you’ve ever met an Anzati, but their Force acuity is related to their ability to feed on the life force of other Force sensitive creatures. Litef, here, was mutilated before she came here. Show Oreth, Litef.” Litef cast baleful eyes on Ben, but when he lifted his chin for her to comply, she allowed her proboscises to slowly emerge from her cheeks.

Oreth and Rey gasped. Even without any familiarity at all with Anzati anatomy, it was clear that the end of the proboscises had been brutally hacked off. They were livid, swollen, and obviously infected. Tears glimmered in Litef’s eyes.

“She can survive without feeding the Anzati way, but her powers won’t develop properly. It could be . . . dangerous.” He flicked his eyes at Rey, and she nodded. “It’s also causing her a great deal of pain, especially at night. Isn’t it, Litef?”

Litef snapped her proboscises back and wrapped an arm around Ben’s neck, hiding her face in his hair in shame. Ben hiked Litef’s weight higher, and Litef tightened her grip around his neck.

Wincing at the steely grip around his throat, Ben continued, “I think you should be able to restore the damage. Will you try?”

Oreth nodded, and Ben gently unwound Litef’s arms and murmured, “Go with Oreth now, Litef.”

Oreth gladly accepted the girl into his arms, but glared at Ben. “How did you know?”

“I felt it, but I’ve also never seen her extend her proboscises. Normally young Anzatis have to be constantly admonished not to drink the brains of other sentients. She must be hungry all the time.”

Oreth’s lip curled. “And?”

Ben frowned and shifted his jaw to the side considering. “And I’ve seen this kind of mutilation before . . . in the First Order.” He narrowed his eyes at Oreth, “But not at my hands.”

Oreth pursed his lips in silent condemnation. 

Ben narrowed his eyes. “I’m responsible for more than I can ever atone for, but not every evil act the First Order committed was my fault. You’re just as culpable for many of those atrocities as I am.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rey glanced between Ben and Oreth, who had gone white as a sheet.

Ben pursed his lips for a moment before answering quietly, “The See family operates the largest shipyard in the galaxy. Their significant fortune was amassed building ships exclusively for the First Order, including the armaments for Starkiller Base.”

Oreth said nothing, but his eyes glinted in anger. He tightened his grip on Litef, finally hissing, “I left that life behind. I gave every credit I ever earned to help build this temple.”

“Oreth . . . why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted—“

“Redemption,” Ben interrupted, “as do we all,” and vanished.


	6. Normalcy

With Ben’s presence revealed within the temple, Rey was beset with constant requests for Master Solo’s tutelage. Even though Oreth’s disapproval was palpable, it was also silent. In a matter of weeks, Ben had taken over many of the advanced forms and combat training sessions Rey had taught previously. Ben was far more demanding that Rey had been, but fair. Rather than dissuading the younglings, his attitude seemed to make them even more eager to please than when studying with Rey. Ben’s pupils beamed when they received the rare compliment.

A number of students had begun to shine under Ben’s tutelage, but Zuulyn’s improvement was meteoric. As one of the most talented younglings in the temple, Zuulyn hadn’t had to work very hard to excel. Though he was harder on Zuulyn than the other younglings, she voraciously pursued Ben’s scant praise like water in the desert. She was still as irreverent as ever outside the practice yard, but Zuulyn had thrown herself into all aspects of her studies ravenously.

It was the way the younglings responded to Ben’s presence, a mixture of awe, curiosity, and an intense desire to be noticed and please, that gradually won over Oreth’s grudging approval. They studied harder for Ben, stood straighter, and were more focused. Oreth clearly still didn’t like Ben, but he had made his peace with the departed Jedi’s presence. Though it brought him no pleasure, he couldn’t deny Ben had become an asset to the temple.

Oreth himself finally consented to be trained in combat by Ben as well. Rey made sure she was conspicuously absent at that first lesson, but whatever transpired had brokered a cautious truce between the two men. She was grateful. Working shoulder to shoulder between her padawan and Ben would have been a nightmare if they couldn’t manage to coexist peaceably.

Rey was as drawn to Ben as the younglings. She was fascinated by the stark contrast between the unstoppable terror of Kylo Ren and the Jedi that had been smothered beneath the mask. 

Through the door of her own classroom, Rey had full view of the practice yard. She would sometimes lose track of what she was saying or doing with her younglings if Ben was in the yard working with his own. Rey was abashed by the resulting giggles and increasingly obvious knowing glances shared by the older students, but still she couldn’t stop watching him.

Seeing him with the children affected Rey deeply, though she couldn’t quite explain why. She liked the way he knelt to speak with the smaller ones, and she’d noticed that a few of the younglings had taken to dogging his heels whenever they had no place else to be. Not only did he allow it, Ben seemed to enjoy it. She’d seen him play games with the younglings on a number of occasions, passing a stone back and forth with the Force. There had been an incident with a ball of rice in the refectory one evening that she suspected had been sanctioned, if not assisted, by Ben.

That had been only the most recent evidence of a very different man emerging from beneath the veil of Kylo Ren. As their shared existence within the temple began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, Ben’s warmth and a dark, barbed sense of humor began to emerge. In deed, word, and expression, Ben reminded Rey more and more of Han every day. 

One particularly memorable afternoon, Oreth had nearly choked on a sip of tea when he’d glanced out the doorway of his classroom to see some of the younger boys levitating small strips of scrap metal in the practice yard.

Striding out into the yard, he’d demanded, “What are you doing?”

Ben had lifted his brows calmly. “Teaching.” He leaned down to a boy of six or seven and murmured, “Well done, Uto. Turn that twisty bit so that it sticks out to your right more . . . ah, your other right.”

“I can see you are teaching,” Oreth had hissed between his teeth. “Do they know what that says?”

To a casual observer, the younglings were assembling strips of scrap metal into a grid pattern several yards into the air as proscribed by their master. The placement was less than arbitrary.

Ben glanced askance at Oreth. “No . . . but I take it you do?”

“I recommend Master Skywalker not see what it says.”

“Master Skywalker doesn’t read Mando’a.”

“That’s hardly the point.”

Ben sighed deeply. “That will be sufficient for today. See to it you stack everything neatly back into the crate.”

Later that night, Rey had glanced up from studying one of the Jedi texts to find Ben’s warm, dark eyes regarding her with speculation. She couldn’t help but smile back at him.

Setting aside the book, she said, “I understand you and Oreth had a disagreement about what the boys were doing? I saw it. It was kind of pretty.”

Ben’s smile widened. “Oreth didn’t like it.” 

Ben cautiously stroked a finger down the back of Rey’s hand where it rested on the cover of the book. Since he’d returned, Ben had only occasionally touched Rey, as though waiting for her to dictate the nature and rhythm of their relationship. Rey raised her fingers, and after a tense pause, Ben gently laced his fingers between hers. Rey smiled, and warmth climbed her neck. She found herself suddenly unable to meet Ben’s eye, though she squeezed his fingers gently in encouragement.

“He seemed to think you’d assembled something inappropriate in Mando’a.”

“And?”

Rey scooted closer to Ben and confided softly, “He didn’t tell me what it said.”

Ben chuckled softly, a rich, deep rumble. With gentle pressure on her fingers, he drew her nearer and enveloped her in his arms. “I’d rather show you what it said.”

Rey never found out what Ben had written in the air, but she’d spent hours trying to convince her to tell him. They’d both laughed more that night than either had in a very long time. It had been the first night, but not the last, that she had fallen asleep in his arms, exhausted but happy.

It turned out that Mando’a wasn’t the limit of Ben’s lingual skills. In addition to his far superior instruction on forms and combat, Ben had revealed a surprising talent with languages. Many of their students arrived at the temple unable to read even Aurebesh. It turned out he was fluent in a dizzying number of other tongues, including those the Jedi texts were recorded in. He began overseeing instruction in this area as well, setting the students to writing short poems in ancient languages for practice, evaluating even the quality of their calligraphy.

Ben’s calligraphy classes met every fourth day after the evening meal, though only a handful of students showed up to the class, mostly the older girls. Rey had repeatedly offered him the use of her own classroom, but Ben preferred to teach in the open air of the practice yard. On these evenings, every candle and oil lamp they possessed would suspended in the yard, casting a soft, golden glow over the assembled group. He would sit at a low table with legs folded in the middle of the yard to demonstrate the proper way to hold the brush and the prescribed order of the brush strokes. 

The students would watch riveted as Ben’s brush glided over whatever paper he’d been able to salvage. Small hands drifted through the air trying to replicate Master Solo’s elegant strokes, snub noses crinkled in concentration, lips pinched between teeth or open wide in wonder. Ben would kneel on the ground beside the children, guiding them as they traced their characters in the sand until they were ready to try on the precious paper. 

On these nights, Ben would return to Rey’s quarters quiet and content, often becomingly marked with stray smears of ink on the side of his hand, beneath a toned forearm, or down the long bridge of his nose. Whatever was in the ink Ben used, it was the only bit of filth that seemed to adhere to his spiritual projection, and it had always disappeared of its own accord by the morning. Rey missed these endearing imperfections when they’d gone.

As the months passed and the warmth between them grew, she eagerly looked forward to the evenings when the temple sighed peacefully with the slumber of the younglings. Her quarters had become their private sanctuary where they could speak frankly with one another. Though Rey had offered Ben his own quarters, he’d shrugged noncommittally, reminding her that he didn’t need sleep. 

At first, Rey had been afraid to close her eyes every night lest Ben be gone when she woke. He would make himself comfortable in a chair beside her bunk with a book, and he’d still be there in the morning when she woke. She still sometimes woke shaking and drenched from sweat after reliving their battle with Palpatine and the horror of Ben going limp and lifeless in her arms. It was a comfort to open her eyes and find him still there. Curiously, though he professed to not needing sleep, being spirit only, she still frequently found him slumped in the chair softly snoring when she woke.

Nearly a year passed in this manner, Rey’s days beginning with Ben at her side and ending more and more frequently in his arms. Life became a consistent rhythm punctuated with small triumphs and shared challenges, completely devoid of anything truly extraordinary. She and Ben had faded from the thoughts of more important people dealing with grander problems. Though they heard occasional chatter about the activities of the Alliance, it seemed very distant from their day to day reality. Rey’s ears still crackled with recognition when she heard the names of Admiral Poe or Admiral Finn mentioned, but she had no desire to return to the center of the stage.

One night as Rey settled her head on Ben’s shoulder and he closed his arms around her, she sighed deeply with contentment. Ben’s heavy hand stroked the length of her spine in acknowledgement of feelings he’d no doubt felt radiate back through the Force. Swallowing a yawn, Rey realized that for most people, this was what ‘normal’ felt like. It was what they had been fighting for all along.


	7. A River, The Flood

Having dismissed her students early, Rey found herself loitering at the back of the awning in the training yard to watch Ben instruct some of the advanced students on staff techniques. She soon realized that he was guiding them through a form she wasn’t familiar with, probably one of the Sith forms he still preferred. Though most of the strikes and stances were familiar, they were combined into more dynamic, aggressive combinations. She took a place on a stack of shipping crates.

Though she doubted Ben really felt the effects of the Tatooine suns or the heat of exertion, he had stripped down to his undertunic just as his students had done, and it appeared to be plastered to his body with sweat. As he talked, he paced back and forth, idly swinging the weapon in his wake.

“Master Solo,” one of the older boys interrupted, “what’s the point of learning all these forms? None of them are going to help if someone attacks us.”

Ben frowned. “The forms help you learn muscle memory so that when you are attacked, you can respond instantly and more effectively. If someone is trying to kill you, you won’t have time to think about what to do next. You need to know before it happens.”

“Has anyone ever attacked you and you didn’t know what to do?” Klorow, a slender Jawa boy croaked.

Ben’s eyes found Rey and he smiled slowly. “There was this scavenger who had more natural talent than anyone else I’d ever met.” Rey rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “She was fierce and so gifted with the Force that there was never time for me to think, only react and hope I’d made the right choice. We fought many times, but neither of us really ever succeeded in defeating the other.”

“What happened?” Klorow asked.

Ben flourished the staff, considering. “Once, we found ourselves on the same side, and it felt like . . .” he smiled at Rey, “it felt like home. I realized there was nothing in the universe that I liked better than fighting with her, so I decided to change sides so that we could always be together.”

“What made you change your mind?” Another boy sitting close to Rey asked.

“She ran me through with my own saber.” An appreciative gasp rose from the students, and Rey cocked a brow. Ben pointed at his belly and grinned at her, “Right here.”

“Is that how you died?” Klorow whispered, brimming with anxiety and unable to sit still.

“Uh,” Ben stuttered, “I would have died, but she healed me through the Force,” the grin faded from his face, “and I’ve spent the rest of my existence trying to prove I’m good enough to deserve her . . . mercy.”

“Where is she now?” Rey hadn’t realized Koriolana was with the younglings until she spoke up. 

Rey began picking her way through the younglings who barely noticed her passage. She laid her hand on Koriolana’s intricate braids as she passed. “Wondering why Master Solo is giving you a history lesson, rather than teaching you proper use of the staff.”

Rey and Ben grinned at the appreciative gasps. As she stepped out of the shade into the blazing afternoon glare, Rey selected a staff. She swung it negligently at Ben’s head playfully.

He countered her strike easily and murmured softly, “I was waiting for my partner.”

Without warning, Rey lunged at Ben, and he met her strike for strike. They pursued one another across the training yard, and eventually Ben succeeded in maneuvering Rey into an inconvenient position amidst some recently delivered supplies. 

With their staves locked together, their faces only inches apart, Rey gasped, “Why did you tell them that story?”

Ben bared his teeth at Rey, but it was more a smile than a threat. “Because it was true and they asked.” He extended one of his long fingers to stroke Rey’s knuckles, only inches away from where she braced her staff against his. “And because I miss fighting with you.”

Rey braced her feet, and Ben allowed her to shove him back so she could continue the attack. For a moment, she forgot he was more spirit than material and attempted to use the Force to press him back. Ben cocked a brow at the wholly ineffective attack and swept his staff around for an obvious attempt to hook it beneath Rey’s knee.

Rey slammed her staff into his just in time to retain her footing. “Pressing every advantage, I see.”

“I wouldn’t be any match for you unless I did.”

The rational part of Rey’s mind knew that Ben would never tire, or at least not in the way she would. A deeper, more emotional part of her screamed to keep fighting. The training yard and the temple students faded away, and the Force blossomed within her. For the first time since they had faced Palpatine, she felt both the dark and the light raging through her like a river. She could feel the prick of every soul in the temple, but most acutely, she felt Ben. He was a deep, rich font of power, cascading before and around her, inviting her in. Abruptly, he opened his mind to her.

He smiled, and his eyes sparkled. _I’ve missed this. Missed you._

Rey took a deep breath, grasping for purchase as Ben’s long-dammed emotions flooded over her.

She caught a scrap of memory from his mind, and she saw herself braced beneath his saber in that snowy forest, eyes closed as she had sought out the Force during battle for the first time. The light from both of their sabers danced over her skin.

_You’re so beautiful._

From his perspective, she realized Ben had chosen to grant her the grace to gather herself and reach out to the Force when an easy victory had been at hand. Her defiance and strength had ignited a gnawing desire that had called to him . . . and the same fire had raged between them ever since.

Rey blinked and realized that their staves were once again locked together as she and Ben relived the same moment. Ben subtly changed the angle of his block, and he gently, inexorably, pressed her staff down.

“Will it never change?” Ben asked softly, his voice becoming deeper and ragged.

“What?” she panted. “You becoming Kylo Ren every time there’s a weapon in your hand?”

“No . . .” He ignored the unworthy jibe. “This.”

Ben lowered his face to Rey’s and pressed his lips to hers. She growled against his mouth, but returned the kiss eagerly nonetheless. 

Rey twisted from beneath Ben’s staff, and he deftly stepped over her as she dropped low to the ground. He dropped his staff and grabbed Rey’s free hand to pull her back to her feet. Ben tore Rey’s staff from her hand and tossed it aside with his. 

He wrapped his hand around the back of Rey’s neck and brought her face close to his. Urgently, he whispered, “I knew it on Takodana, and I’ve felt it every time we’ve crossed blades. You’ve always been the other half of me.” Ben wrapped his other arm around Rey, and she realized that her fingers were gripping his tunic so tightly that the fabric would have shredded had it been real. “You can call me Kylo Ren if you want, but what I feel for you has never changed. It’s only grown deeper. Even now, though we are separated by the grave, I’d still risk everything I am to be with you.”

This time when Ben lowered his mouth to hers, she melted into his body and allowed him to support her. She accepted his kiss with a soft groan of longing. When their lips parted, she pressed her forehead against Ben’s and closed her eyes, panting for breath. It was likely only seconds that they stood holding one another in the center of the practice yard, but it felt like an eternity before awareness of the physical world returned to either of them.

Ben brushed his thumb over Rey’s cheek, and she sought his hand before opening her eyes. Ben’s students sat riveted to the spot beneath the awning, many slack-jawed and unable to comprehend what had just unfolded before them. As Ben straightened, he pressed another kiss to her damp brow, and she laid her temple against his heaving chest. From the deeper shadows at the back of the awning, Oreth stepped forward, his jaw set and his eyes blazing with fury.

Rey took a step out of Ben’s arms, but he caught her hand. Their eyes locked again, and Rey answered the brittle, fearful question she saw there with another soft kiss. 

She laid her hand on his cheek. “I’ve got to speak with Oreth.”

Ben nodded and released her hand after a firm squeeze. He quietly dismissed the younglings to their supper while Rey threaded her way between them to reach her padawan.

“Quite the display,” Oreth commented, with only a hint of bitterness, “Master.”

“I’ve never lied to you about what is between me and Ben.”

“Neither have you explained it fully.” He raked his eyes over her. “When he first came here, I didn’t understand why. I didn’t understand why you trusted him with our precious younglings. Now I see you are blind to what he really is.”

“He came here to save me. Our separation was killing us.”

“I met him once, you know, Kylo Ren.” Oreth’s eyes followed Ben as he ushered the last of his students out of the training yard. “He destroyed everything he touched. Take care he doesn’t destroy you too.”

As Oreth turned to go, Rey murmured, “Kylo Ren is dead.”

Without a glance in her direction, Oreth answered, “So is Ben Solo, and good riddance.”


	8. The Trials

In the weeks leading up to Zuulyn’s Trials, Ben had been a particular wreck. Never mind he had designed the Trials himself, based on those he had completed under Luke Skywalker. Never mind he had obsessively reviewed every word of the Jedi texts with Zuulyn to ensure she could recite them verbatim in both Galactic Standard and the source tongue. Never mind the fact that though Rey had offered to allow him to judge Zuulyn’s Trials, Ben had stubbornly insisted upon recusing himself.

The morning of the Trials, Rey had woken alone. When she made her way to the training yard, the sky had started to blush before the rise of the first sun. Zuulyn was perched on a crate, watching her mentor pace nervously across the yard, muttering to himself. As Rey drew near, Zuulyn handed her a slab of day-old flatbread without taking her eyes from Ben.

“Is he going to survive my Trials?”

Rey smiled indulgently at Zuulyn and stroked a comforting hand from the top of her head down one of her lekku. She resisted the urge to remind Zuulyn that Ben had already been dead for over a standard decade. 

Instead, she answered, “He feels personally responsible for your training. You were his first real student. Though he passed his Trials very young, Master Solo’s apprenticeship was a dangerous time in his life. He endured excruciating torture that almost destroyed him, and his own master turned against him. He’s terrified of failing you and losing you the way his master lost him.”

Zuulyn’s peculiar green eyes glowed softly in the early light as she glanced at Rey. “Did you feel this way when Oreth completed his Trials?”

“Oreth didn’t complete any Trials. I wasn’t formally trained as a Jedi myself, and I had no idea what the traditional Jedi path consisted of until Master Solo explained it to me. You are the first padawan to attempt the Trials since Luke Skywalker’s temple was destroyed.”

Zuulyn jiggled her foot nervously. “I’m not going to ever let Master Solo down.”

“I’m sure you won’t Zuulyn. He doesn’t fear your failure; he fears his own.”

Ben glanced at the sky, gauging how much longer until Zuulyn’s Trial would officially begin. Apparently deciding there was time yet, he turned his face back to the sand and continued pacing the yard.

“Is he still worried about the Gathering Rite?”

Rey smiled. “We discussed it late into the night. When I finally fell asleep, he had had talked himself into calling off your Trial and sending you out with Oreth to collect your kyber instead. The fact that he’s watching the sun tells me he’s decided to let you go ahead and complete the Trial using Oreth’s saber. With Ilum’s destruction, he’s afraid to turn you loose in the galaxy to find your crystal without a companion. We have far too many enemies lurking in the shadows to risk a single one of us being lost. If Ben had been here when Oreth’s Gathering came, I doubt he’d have allowed Oreth to go alone either.”

“I didn’t think Master Solo was afraid of anything.”

“I assure you, Master Solo is afraid of a great many things, but most of all, he dreads harm coming to those he cares for.”

Ben’s voice rose subtly, and Zuulyn frowned.

“He’s packed a dozen alien tongues into my head, and I still can’t figure out what he’s carrying on about. What language is he speaking?”

Rey sighed and sank down onto a smaller crate beneath Zuulyn. “When Master Solo is particularly upset, he tends to talk to himself in Sith.”

“He finds that soothing?”

“No, but he knows no one else can comprehend what he’s saying, freeing him to say what is weighing down his mind and heart. That is a comfort of sorts.”

“Do you understand what he’s saying?”

Rey rubbed her hand against the tightness in her chest. “I feel it, and that is more than enough.”

Zuulyn pulled her hood up and shouldered her pack, her face turned towards the lightening sky. She held Oreth’s saber in a white-knuckled grip and gnawed her lip nervously before blurting, “If something should happen and I can’t complete my Trials,” a stone of icy dread dropped into Rey’s stomach, “tell Master Solo how grateful I am. Tell him he was more of a father to me than the Force-forsaken Sarlacc that sired me and sold me away to be a pleasure slave.”

“Zuulyn, you’re going to be fine. The Force will be with you.”

At that moment, the first rays of dawn crested the horizon, and Zuulyn raced from the training yard into the bleak Tatooine desert. Ben watched her go silently, his lips thin and his entire frame rigid with anxiety.

To Rey’s surprise, Ben spent the intervening days in silent meditation and prayer. Though he did not speak to her during this time, when Rey laid her hand upon his shoulder, he clasped her fingers and pressed them to his cheek briefly. 

Rey was deeply relieved when Zuulyn trotted back into the temple, exhausted and crisped to a cinder by the suns, but three days ahead of her expected return. Her eyes had searched the training yard wildly, obviously seeking out her mentor. When she did not find him, she closed her eyes and sought him through the Force, allowing it to lead her to the small, damp alcove in the lowest level of the temple where Ben had sequestered himself. Zuulyn bowed low before Ben, pressing her face to the pitted floor. Ben took her hands in his, and they bent their heads together conversing quietly. 

Touched and relieved, Rey turned away that Zuulyn could share the moment alone with Ben. As she retreated down the narrow hall, Zuulyn’s sobs echoed from the walls, and beneath them, Ben’s calm baritone soothed her. Even from across the temple, Rey felt Ben’s relief and joy at Zuulyn’s safe return. His reflected feelings filled her and intoxicated her like wine.

When Ben emerged from the dank recesses of the temple, he emitted a dazzling radiance that was amplified between them through the Force. One of the younglings had a talent with a seven-stringed instrument from her homeworld, and she had struck up a sprightly tune, to which the students were gaily dancing. Ben made his way across the yard, avoiding the frolicking younglings and acknowledging no one but Rey. When he reached her, he gathered her wordlessly into his arms.

Rey clasped her arms around Ben’s neck and laughed. “You’re happy Zuulyn has returned then?”

Ben kissed Rey thoroughly and surfaced jubilant. “I am. I’m relieved that for once in my life, something I’ve touched hasn’t been corrupted or smashed into oblivion.”

Rey laid her hand against Ben’s cheek and smiled fondly up at him. “I’m happy she’s home, too.”

“Master Solo, Master Skywalker.” Ben and Rey turned to face Zuulyn.

She was uncharacteristically agitated, twisting her fingers together and unable to meet their gaze. “Now that my Initiate Trials are complete, I was wondering if someone would be willing to take me to be their padawan.”

Rey smiled broadly and clasped one of Zuulyn’s hands. “Of course! Oreth is nearly ready to complete his Jedi Trials to become a Knight. If you can be patient a few months, we had discussed—“

“No! Not him.”

Rey’s brows shot up. “Is there some reason you don’t want to be Oreth’s padawan?”

“Oreth’s heart . . .” Zuulyn’s eyes slid away from Rey, “. . . is focused elsewhere. His affinity is in the healing arts, and he will never consent to leave the temple.” She glanced hopefully at Ben and raised her chin a fraction of an inch. “I am a warrior, and I will only accept a true warrior for my Master. Please, Master Solo, accept me as your padawan.”

Ben took a deep breath, for once speechless as he looked down at Zuulyn. “I am honored beyond measure, Zuulyn,” he stuttered, “but you deserve a master who can be fully present to you in this realm. 

“Because we are dyad, my life force is bound directly to Master Skywalker’s. I returned to the mortal realm because of that bond. I do not know what will happen if I leave this place to continue this phase of your training with you. It is entirely possible Master Skywalker and I will both fade due to our separation.”

Zuulyn nodded thoughtfully. “I can feel the bond between you as though I could reach out and touch it, and I understand your hesitation. Please, will you at least consider it? Search the Force. I think there may be answers there for us both that you have not yet considered.”

Ben nodded soberly. “I will meditate on this problem, and I know that Master Skywalker will as well. Can you be patient while I wait upon answers from the Force?”

“Of course.”

* * *

Zuulyn watched sadly as Master Solo guided Master Skywalker back to her quarters, their faces close beneath the moonlight as they murmured to one another.

“Did you ask him?” Zuulyn turned to find Litef at her elbow. When she nodded, Litef pressed, “And?”

“He didn’t say no, exactly. He is worried about being separated from Master Skywalker and that he can’t train me properly since he’s not fully present on this plane.”

Litef lifted her head. “He will train you. He must. There’s just enough time for him to prepare you for your Jedi Trials before he needs to begin my padawan training.”

Zuulyn glanced down at little Litef and grinned. “You’re very certain he’ll take either of us!”

Litef glared up at Zuulyn, and the honed steel that was beneath her normally sweet demeanor glinted in her eyes. “I am Anzati, and you are Twi’lek.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Litef took a deep breath and drew herself up. “The Force isn’t something we feel, something insubstantial. It is the actual sustenance of our existence. When I feed, I can sometimes see the Force spread out before me like a map, like a book that I can flip the pages of and scan at my leisure.”

Master Solo had always been careful about Litef’s upbringing. After her proboscises had been repaired, he had personally seen to her needs, ensuring that she was able to feed on a regular, if not generous schedule. 

Once, returning from what Zuulyn had realized must be a feeding, Litef had confided, “He was going to die anyway. I allowed that scum to die with purpose.”

On her own, Zuulyn had done some poking around. Mos Eisley had begun accepting regular transports of prisoners from off-world prisons. Zuulyn suspected Master Solo scoured prison records for prisoners with high Force acuity that had been slated for execution and had them brought to Tatooine for Litef’s sustenance. She wondered if Master Skywalker was aware Master Solo had allowed one of their younglings to become the universe’s executioner, quietly, gently consigning the most heinous, dangerous creatures in existence to oblivion.

Not only had Master Solo preserved Litef’s connection to the Force through repair of her proboscises, he had secured a steady diet that would ensure she would develop normally as an Anzati. With an Anzati’s near immortal life expectancy, Litef stood to one day become the oldest, most powerful Jedi in existence. It was no wonder the young Anzati was so fiercely loyal to Master Solo.

“What did the Force show you about Master Solo?”

She smiled sweetly, and knew that Litef would never reveal the secrets that the Force had confided in her. “Put your faith in the Force. Master Solo is stronger than even he knows.” Her smile faded. “Pray he can survive the trials before him.”

Litef walked away, and Zuulyn’s heart was heavier than before. She watched wistfully as Master Solo wrapped his arms around Master Skywalker, kissing her beneath the stars before leading her back into the temple compound. She rested her head upon her hand sullenly, and without realizing it, her lekku crossed once and then again, twining together.

Long after the Tatooine dawn had swallowed the last star standing sentinel over the vast darkness, Zuulyn remained watching the place her master had disappeared. Softly, she murmured, “I will watch for your coming, Master.”

Ensconced in Ben Solo’s private prayer chamber, deep within the bowels of the temple, Litef smiled wickedly and whispered back into the Force, “And so will I.”

* * *

Ben had meant it when he said he was deeply honored Zuulyn had sought him out. Neither of his own masters had ever truly considered him worthy of the title Master, and it warmed him more than he wanted to admit. After all that he had endured, this place, this time, the temple and Rey by his side . . . Ben had never been more content.

In his joy, Ben opened his mind to Rey, aching to share it with her. They returned to Rey’s quarters in a golden mist simmering near euphoria that enveloped them both. Ben invited Rey into the deepest recesses of his mind where she sought answers for things that had long weighed upon her. Barely acknowledged feelings that had flourished between them for many years blossomed, thought to thought and heart to heart, with no need to speak. 

Emboldened, Rey asked, “Do you remember when we touched on Ahch-to?”

Ben’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Of course. You know I do.”

Rey laced her fingers between Ben’s, needing to feel him to speak the words the Force was urging her to say. “Will you tell me what you saw?”

The light emanating from Ben altered suddenly, dampening, condensing to its normal vibrant blue. “I told you before what I saw.”

“Has everything you saw come to pass?”

Ben’s eyes shuttered and his features became still. “No . . . it wasn’t real. It was something put in our minds by Snoke to lure us in and control us.” He cupped her face in his hand and stroked a thumb over her cheek. “It was a beautiful lie, but still a lie.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“It was.”

Rey laced her fingers into Ben’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss. Ben’s hands settled around Rey’s waist, and as he pulled her closer, she could feel his body rouse against hers. Rey planted kisses down Ben’s throat and spread his robes open to press her lips against his skin. He sighed deeply, and Ben’s hands explored her back, his clever fingers soon finding themselves beneath her robes and burning against her flesh.

Through the years, Ben’s touch had become more tender, more familiar, yet he’d never attempted to consummate their bond. With their minds wide open to one another, their mutual desire had slipped its fetters. The passion he’d felt for her during his mortal existence had ripened and matured through the years. It remained a conflagration roaring within him. Only fear of a failure that would destroy them both prevented him from allowing his desire to come to physical fruition.

“Just this once,” she murmured, “let’s try.” Ben’s dark eyes searched hers, and Rey persisted, “There is so much light between us. I want to believe that it’s still possible. Let go of your fear. Just . . . let’s try.”

Ben nodded and pressed his trembling lips to hers. The decision made, their desire consumed them both within moments. Divesting Rey of her robes, Ben carried Rey to their bed eagerly. Rey clasped Ben to her, but as the light within each of them swelled to a blinding corona, Ben’s substance began to fade away. The blazing comfort of his presence evaporated in her arms, and though Ben was still visible and as radiant as before, she could no longer feel the brush of his skin against hers, the heady weight and heat of him against and within her.

In bitterest frustration, Ben dropped his head onto Rey’s shoulder and sobbed, “Damn it!”

Rey reached for him, aching to soothe, but he had become as insubstantial as smoke.

“Ben, what’s wrong?”

Ben withdrew from Rey, wretched. “We can’t. I can’t. I’m not strong enough to hold them both together.”

“Tell me what’s happening!”

Ben pulled deep, ragged breaths into his shuddering body in a desperate effort to center himself. Soon, he was able to regain a measure of his physical manifestation. Rey stroked a hand down his back, barely able to feel his presence, and Ben shivered at her touch.

She pressed a kiss through Ben’s shoulder and murmured against it, “I can normally feel your presence as solid as the day you carried me away. Why are you fading away now?”

Miserably, Ben leaned heavily on his knees, his head hanging low. “I have always used a thread of the dark side, wrapped around my life force, to become more real to you. My presence here is in defiance of the natural order.” He raised his head to look at her, and Rey’s heart threatened to stop at the pain in his features. “You died, and I refused to accept it, so I gave you my life force and took your place. It’s only through a constant, careful balance between the light and dark sides that I can touch you. The way I feel for you is pure light. I don’t think I can love you completely, the way I want to, the way I need to, and still hold on to even a thread of the darkness.”

Rey took Ben’s face in her hands, his physical manifestation solidifying as he was enveloped in despair. “There is darkness in both of us. I’m not afraid of the darkness in you anymore. Give it full reign.”

“There’s no darkness in what I feel for you.” He laid his hand across Rey’s belly and continued plaintively, “All I want between us is life, the life that was promised by the Force.”

Ben rose and began dressing.

“What are you doing?”

Tying his obi, he answered, “I need some time to think this through. Perhaps the Force will present me with the answer, but right now, I can’t—“ Ben clenched his hands and dropped them to his side in frustration. “I can’t be here and know I’ve failed you again.”

Rey gathered the thin blankets to herself miserably. Her throat was thick, impossible to press breath into the words. “Where will you go?”

“I’ll go look for kyber for Zuulyn. I’d feel better sending her and Oreth out if I knew where it was safe to send them.” He laughed humorlessly. “When Hux and Snoke set their sights on that miserable heap of ice, I never dreamed that the destruction of Ilum would be yet one more of my failures.”

“Ben,” Rey grasped Ben’s nearly solid fingers and tugged him closer. “You don’t have to do this. It doesn’t matter to me, not really. I need you. We all do. Please, don’t go.”

Ben perched on the edge of the bunk and brushed his fingertips over Rey’s face. “I promise, I won’t be gone for long. I won’t go back to the Hall of Echoes without saying goodbye.”

When he rose to depart, Rey whispered, “I love you.”

Sadly, Ben murmured, “I know.”


	9. Empty Hall, Crumbling Foundations

In the days following Ben’s departure, the temple felt empty and hollow without his presence. So attuned were the younglings and Masters to one another’s feelings that a faint melancholy settled over them all. Though they were hungry for answers, hurt that Master Solo was gone without a farewell or explanation, none spoke his name, especially to Rey.

Zuulyn in particular wilted without her chosen Master’s presence. She continued to train day and night as though her Trials had not yet happened, and there was no discussion of who would accept her as padawan. Rey could feel Zuulyn’s gaze searing into her back. With her particularly strong Force acuity, Rey had no doubt Zuulyn knew some kind of discord between herself and Ben had sent him away. Embarrassed, she sincerely hoped Zuulyn couldn’t intuit more than that.

Nearly a week had passed when a transmission was received from the Alliance. Rey had made contact with Admiral Finn months ago letting him know that Oreth was nearing the time for his Trials to become a Knight. Ben had suggested that Oreth should have the opportunity to serve beyond their temple in his preparation for his Jedi Trials, though as Zuulyn had alluded, Oreth was very hesitant to leave. The thought of Oreth leaving her as well left Rey bereft. Still, she accepted the assignment to Corellia on Oreth’s behalf.

“Master, Rey, I don’t have to go.”

Rey smiled weakly and clasped one of Oreth’s hands in her own. “The life of a Jedi is supposed to be one of service. We serve at the pleasure of those who need us and cannot expect their needs to reflect our convenience.”

Softly, he answered, “With Master Solo gone, you need me more.”

Rey rubbed her chest absently, unconsciously trying to massage away the ache that had been growing there since Ben’s departure. “Master Solo is never truly gone.” 

For Oreth’s sake, Rey made an effort to rally and brightened. “It’s time. You’ve served the temple well, and there is little more I can teach you here. What you will learn in service to others is better training than we have to offer you.”

Stubbornly, Oreth asked, “Where has he gone?”

“He’s scouting the surrounding systems to locate a source of kyber. He’s afraid to send Zuulyn out alone. Past generations of Jedi usually went to Ilum to find their crystals. With Ilum destroyed, without guidance, it could take many years before she is able to locate an adequate crystal. He feels it would be dangerous to send her out virtually unarmed for her Gathering.”

“Why doesn’t he go with her?”

“Actually,” Rey smiled up at Oreth, “He was going to entrust you with his favorite student. I know the two of you rarely agree on anything, and he’d probably feed me to a krayt dragon before he admitted it, but I know he’s proud of the progress you’ve made in your combat training since he’s arrived.”

Oreth’s lips twisted, and he admitted bitterly, “I’ll never be like him. I’ll never have the strength or ferocity of Kylo Ren.”

Rey chuckled breathily. “No one will ever be Kylo Ren, and Ben wouldn’t want that for you anyway. You have your own strengths. Focus on those.”

Oreth nodded. He took Rey’s other hand in his and drew her closer. “Master, he will return, and so will I. When I do, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Rey’s brow creased with apprehension. “Tell me now.”

“The time is not yet right.”

* * *

Rey was surprised when Oreth returned triumphant only a few days later. He strode into the temple, radiant. He stood straighter, his shoulders back, and he smiled confidently when he greeted her. It was a balm to Rey’s heart to see Oreth so proud at the conclusion of this first successful mission.

He bowed low before Rey and reverently placed into her hands a small metal box. Nestled in exquisitely soft black velvet was a translucent sphere that captured the light curiously. It was small, its diameter perhaps the same as the length of Rey’s thumb. She could see nothing remarkable about the bauble aside from its significant weight for an object so small.

“What is it?” Rey glanced up at Oreth. 

Oreth smiled broadly. “It’s a data sphere. While on Corellia, we heard there might be a backup copy of the archive and library from the Jedi temple on Coruscant.” He leaned forward and tapped the sphere firmly. “Look at the date.”

A date glowed briefly on the surface of the sphere, and Rey’s eyes widened. “This archive was made only four days before the Purge! How did you get this?”

“Admiral Finn brokered the negotiation, but I had to liquidate most of my remaining assets on Corellia to get it.” He shrugged jauntily. “It seemed well worth the cost, and my brothers were delighted to buy out what remained of my holdings.”

“Oreth, thank you!” Rey hugged Oreth tightly. “Master Skywalker tried for years to acquire a backup of those archives but could never locate one.” She leaned back in Oreth’s arms beaming at him. “You’ve recovered generations of Jedi history and training. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

Oreth’s eyes glittered roguishly. “You could try,” he teased and tightened his grip around Rey’s waist, pulling her subtly closer against his body.

The tightness in Rey’s chest was suddenly acute as she met Oreth’s eyes. With his training completed and his hair allowed to grow unchecked, he looked much as he had when he had arrived on Tatooine. His rich chestnut waves framed fine aristocratic features with a high bow, full lips, and a firm jaw. Clasped in his arms, she was all too aware of his solid strength and warmth. The increasingly misty warmth that glowed from his hazel eyes left no doubt in Rey’s mind about the kind of gratitude he’d be prepared to accept.

Rey smiled coolly at Oreth, the warmth fading subtly from her eyes. “Did you do this for the temple or for me?”

“Is there a difference?” Surprised by his answer, Rey laughed nervously. Before she could interrupt, he continued, “We both know _you_ are the temple. I wanted that archive because of what it would mean for the temple, for the students, for us, but would it matter if I had done it for you as well?”

“Oreth . . .” Rey twisted gently away from him and he released her reluctantly. “I’m not free to accept attachments of a personal nature.”

Oreth frowned. They’d discussed on a number of occasions that their students would not be forbidden from relationships within or beyond the temple. There simply weren’t enough of them to discount the benefits of rebuilding the temple through bloodlines. Besides, it was precisely this practice that had indirectly led to the destruction of the Jedi temple on Coruscant by Darth Vader.

“Because of Master Solo?” he growled.

“I know it’s hard to understand, but we are bound to one another—“

“He’s dead Rey. Whether he’s here or in some Force-forsaken stinking hole, he’s always going to be dead.” Oreth took Rey’s hand and pressed it against his heart. “I’m not, and neither are you. No matter how he feels about you or what kind of obligation you feel towards him, that’s not going to change for a long time to come.”

Rey studied Oreth’s deeply tanned hand, pressed earnestly over her own. His hands had patiently cared for her and her students for years. She could not deny her debt to Oreth, either in terms of his extreme generosity in supporting the temple, nor in his exemplary generosity of spirit. She did care deeply for her padawan. She appreciated his calm, steady support, his even-tempered advice, his constancy, his humor. How could she explain to him she just didn’t care for him enough to betray her feelings for Ben Solo?

“Ben may be dead,” Rey murmured, “but he’s the other half of my soul. You deserve more than half a woman’s heart.”

“Maybe, but you deserve more than half a life. I would love the half of you that would be mine until all the stars in the sky burned into ash.” Oreth leaned closer and pressed soft, warm lips to Rey’s.

For a moment, Rey couldn’t stop herself from returning Oreth’s kiss. It was warm, firm, and so very present. As he felt her feelings unfurl, Oreth pulled her closer, spreading a hand across Rey’s back and deepening their kiss. 

For just a moment, Rey allowed herself to sink into the feelings that were filling her up, melt into the strong body that held her. When Rey’s heart took over, it was a different pair of arms that she felt around her and different lips that were pressed against hers. _Oh, Ben_ . . .

There it was. The truth that was in her heart, pervaded her soul, and was crystallized even in the foundation of her bones. She was now and always had been Ben’s. Even when he was lost to her and only his spirit persisted, he was the only man who could ever be her equal. They were dyad, bound in the Force itself, and that was a truth that could not ever be set aside for something as fleeting as a mortal attachment.

Recalling herself, she gasped and pulled away from him. “I can’t. Ben is . . . I love Ben.” She gaped at Oreth, horrified and ashamed of what she’d permitted. “I’ll always love him.”

“He’s not real! Not like I am. You deserve more than a lifetime of waiting. He’s the tatters and shreds of a sadistic killer, and you deserve better than anything he’ll ever be!” Oreth seized one of Rey’s hands, beseeching her. “He can never be a proper husband for you; you’ll never bear his child. When you pass into the Force, nothing will be left of you to carry on your work here. You _are_ the Jedi Order now. You are the light, the spark, that will keep it alive. Don’t you want sons and daughters who will carry on your line and keep the Order alive when you’ve gone?”

“Stop,” Rey whispered. “Stop! I can’t. I won’t discuss this with you.”

Rey charged from her classroom across the practice yard into a solid wall of cerulean flame.

Rey lifted streaming eyes, her stomach writhing in a lake of burning shame. By the expression in Ben’s dark eyes, she had no doubt he’d heard, and worse, likely felt the entire exchange. He grimaced sadly and gently smoothed the tears from Rey’s eyes with his thumbs.

“Ben, I’m so sorry—“

“He’s not wrong, your Oreth.”

“He’s not my anything.”

“He’s your padawan, and he was already in love with you before I arrived here.”

“I loved you long before that.”

“I know.”

Ben gently caressed the side of Rey’s face, and his tenderness in the wake of her betrayal was devastating. Unable to bear looking him in the eye, Rey pressed her face against his robes and clutched handfuls of the coarse wool across his broad back.

“We can try again.”

Ben stroked a hand down Rey’s back and murmured into her hair, “We can’t. I won’t give in to the dark side now and risk destroying you. You deserve more than I will ever be able to give you,” he lifted Rey’s chin to force her to look at him, “and I’ll never be able to give you the family you have always wanted.”

Ben sighed deeply. “Zuulyn is past ready for her Gathering, and I’ve located several likely spots. Maybe . . .” Ben’s voice grew thick and he cleared his throat. “Maybe it’s best I leave for a time. I can see to her and when I get back . . .” He was taking increasingly deep breaths as though fighting to get enough air. “If you want me to come back—“

“I don’t want you to go at all!”

“—then it will be done and we can carry on from there.”

“Ben,” Rey groaned, “could you honestly live with that?”

He smiled ironically down at her. “I’m not in a position to live with much of anything. Perhaps this is a test. Perhaps the Force needs us to finally learn the meaning of detachment and true self-sacrifice. If this will make you happy, if it will make you whole—“

“You know if there was a way, any way at all, I’d be with you, Ben, always. Please don’t go.”

Ben kissed Rey fiercely, holding her face between his hands. “You are the perfect light of the Force, but you can drive me to the very edge of my rage, straight into the darkness. If I have to stay here and see you with him . . .” Ben struggled to catch his breath. “I can’t do that. It will destroy me, and in the end I’d destroy both of you and everything we’ve worked so hard to build here.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Search your feelings. You know what you have to do.”

“Ben, please. Don’t go this way. For me, for us, give me one more chance to try to make this right. Fight for us!”

Ben framed Rey’s delicate face between his hands. “No matter what happens, I will always be yours. You have to secure the future of the Temple. If Luke had had a son—“

“I should have had _your_ son!” Rey sobbed.

“I’m sorry.” He gently pried her arms from around his neck. “I love you, and you’ll always be the other half of my soul. No matter what happens, the Force will always be with you . . . and so will I.”


	10. Sentinels

When Ben returned to the Hall of Echoes, Anakin felt his presence like a bell struck deep within his bones. Moments later, Leia had materialized beside him.

“He’s back.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Yes, darling, I’m well aware.”

“Don’t call me that,” she spat. “There’s something wrong. He shouldn’t be here; he should be with Rey. I want you to come talk to him with me.”

“I’d rather die than set foot in that damned tower.”

Leia glared at him from beneath her brows, adamantly refusing to raise her head to look up at him. “You’re already dead, and you’re the one who goaded him into going back to her in the first place. After all the destruction you’ve caused, repairing this is the least you can do.”

Anakin snorted. “I’ll come, but you can talk to your fool son.”

Anakin had listened to Leia rail on at Ben for what seemed like an eternity with increasing annoyance and boredom. Most of the time, Ben stood silently watching the placid waters of the gazing pool, breaking his silence only for occasional noncommittal grunts and snorts of derision. Anakin’s ears perked up when it appeared Ben’s patience had finally been worn down.

“You left here to go to Rey. You can’t just abandon her! She needs your strength and guidance for the temple to succeed. Luke can’t be present to guide her like you can!”

 _“Luke.”_ Ben gave his mother the filthiest possible glare. “Her entire life, Rey dreamed of that island, of finding _Skywalker_ ,” he spat bitterly. “My entire life, I dreamt of _her_.” He stared sightlessly into the inky depths of the pool. Softly, he murmured, “That’s why I took her. I didn’t give a damn about the Rebellion or the map or the droid. I took her because I knew she was meant to be mine.” He glanced at his mother and choked, “Just once in my life, I would have liked to have had something that was really mine. Something that wasn’t broken or charred or corrupted. Something real!”

“She went to Ahch-to looking for Luke. She found _you_. She found Ben Solo and reminded you of who you are.”

He hung his head. “She found a worthless monster too confused and broken to be of any use to anyone.”

“Ben, look at me.” Leia grasped his arm and forced Ben to turn to her. “When Rey’s connection to the Force opened, it showed her you. She told me once that you were the only thing the Force ever showed her.”

“Did she tell you what she saw?”

“No . . .” Leia shook her head and released Ben. “but whatever she saw there, I don’t think she ever lost hope that you would come back to her. I don’t think she ever considered a future that didn’t include you.” Ben turned away from her, but Leia pressed, “Ben, you were always going to be her future. She always believed that.”

“There’s not going to be a future for us. I can’t give that to her.”

Leia tried several times more times to continue their discussion, but Ben ignored her as though he could no longer hear her. Eventually, he turned away, resuming his abandoned course around the gazing pool.

Leia retreated to the entrance of the tower where Anakin leaned against an arch of stone, arms crossed and eyes smoldering. “He’s preparing to let her go, even if it means losing himself to Force.”

“Let me try.”

“Now you want to help? I think you’ve done enough.”

“The Skywalkers have given enough to the Force,” he snarled, “I’m not going to let it take anything else away from us.”

“What are you going to do?”

Anakin strode away from the stone arch into the tower.

“Anakin!”

Anakin raised a hand and forced Leia back, out of the tower. With a sharp twist of his wrist, he erected a barrier between them. Leia pounded against it in increasing rage, but not a whisper penetrated the silent tower.

“When you look in the water, what do you see?”

Ben didn’t glance at Anakin, but he answered softly, “I see her.”

Anakin snorted in derision. “That’s it?”

Ben raised his eyes to Anakin, rage beginning to kindle in his dark eyes. “I see it, over and over again. The life the Force promised me with her.”

“Has it changed, Ben,” Anakin asked, “or is it still as clear as the first time you touched her?”

“It has never changed. It will never change. It was a deranged fantasy planted in my mind by Palpatine and Snoke. It’s not real.” Ben’s rumbling baritone was nearly inaudible. “It was never meant to be.”

“I hate this place. I _despise_ it.” Anakin spread his arms and turned on his heel, his words echoing back to him from the great height of the tower. “Do you know why?”

Anakin strode in front of Ben, forcing him to stop and look at him. “It refuses to show me what it shows you. Do you know what I see when I look in the pool?” Ben refused to respond, and Anakin answered, “I don’t get to see Padme or what our future could have been. The Force doesn’t give you pretty fantasies, Ben. The gazing pool cannot lie. I can only see my destiny in its waters.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “What do you see?”

“This.”

Anakin grabbed Ben’s robes and shoved him over the rim of the pool, plunging him deep into the water. Though the larger man thrashed with all his strength, Anakin used every ounce of his formidable power in the Force to hold Ben under the water. Ben slammed his fists against the stone lip of the pool, and the entire tower shuddered with the force of the blows. A barrage of attacks hammered against the barrier in the stone archway, and Anakin knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. He leaned deeper into the water, his elbow pressed against Ben’s windpipe. 

“Stop fighting me! Let go!”

Ben groaned in response, and one hand shot out of the water. Anakin jerked his face out of Ben’s reach. He twisted, levering his elbow against Ben’s jaw to shove his face deeper into the pool.

“You’re still holding on to the past! Let it die!” Between his teeth, Anakin snarled, “Kill it if you have to.”

Abruptly, Ben stopped fighting, and the cerulean flame that had been Ben Solo’s presence in this place winked out. The coarse linen of Ben’s robes dissolved between Anakin’s fingers. He sighed with relief. For the first time, real peace settled within him, cool and sweet and complete. It was done.

“What have you done?” Leia rushed to the side of the pool, searching for any remnants of her son.

Anakin rose smirking from the pool, arrogantly brushing off his spotless robes. “What you lacked the courage to do.”

* * *

Ben was enveloped in searing heat, blinding light that threatened to scorch his ability to comprehend sight. Every scrap of his flesh had been scoured from every splintered bone. He could have counted them each as they wailed in agony. Even the air was bitter on his tongue, but at least it tasted of home, of Tatooine, of Rey and their temple.

 _Rey . . ._ It was there, always that glowing beacon that called to him. Wherever she was, she was as solid and sound as ever.

A droning filled Ben’s ears. He turned away from it its fracturing buzz, but still it intensified. He could feel it vibrating through whatever shifting, searing hell had captured his consciousness.

“He’s here!”

“I told you he would be.”

“Look at the state of him! Are you sure he’s alive?”

Something wrenched at Ben’s arms, and rusting shrapnel sliced through his flesh. His throat shredded as he screamed in agony.

“Master, Master!” Hands wrenched at his head, and . . . was that sand? “He’s too far gone! He’ll never make it back to the temple.”

“Not for me.” 

Small, cool hands spread across Ben’s cheeks, and from within the Force itself, came an ancient voice whose command was undeniable, irrefutable, and so loud it threatened to burst his skull and reduce his essence to grit. _MAAASTER!_

Ben’s body convulsed, bowed, and his consciousness was dragged mercilessly back from the darkness into which it had been attempting to retreat. When he pried them open, his eyes met the great luminous green eyes of a Twi’lek and the fathomless black eyes of an Anzati.

“We’re not done with you yet, Master Solo,” Litef hissed triumphantly. She laid his head back into the sand and patted his chest with one of her tiny hands. “You’ve still work here to do.”

* * *

Rey was restless. She’d become used to Ben’s presence beside her at night, and she’d had increasing difficulty finding sleep in his absence. With Ben gone, the rhythm of their lives seemed to have lost its meter. Though she stumbled through the motions of guiding the temple, it lacked the satisfaction it once had had. 

In his desperation to draw Rey from her apathy, Oreth had formally asked for her hand. She feared Ben would not return whether she accepted Oreth’s troth or not, but still she held out hope. Though she could barely rouse herself to leave her quarters, somehow she was able to spin a new excuse daily to delay giving Oreth an answer. He wouldn’t wait forever.

Then this morning, Oreth had told her Litef and Zuulyn had gone. She wasn’t surprised, really. Since Ben’s departure, the girls had become nearly inseparable, avoiding the other students and training together at odd hours. They’d both categorically refused to attend Oreth’s classes and instead closeted themselves in the dank alcove where Ben had waited out Zuulyn’s Trials. Rey hadn’t really been worried until hours later when they received a dispatch that a pair of speeders had also been stolen from Mos Eisley.

“Rey!” She lifted her eyes to Oreth. He was so angry these days. “We have to go after the girls!”

“They’ll come back.”

“What if they don’t? What if they are captured by the Knights of Ren?”

Rey’s eyes sharpened. “Have there been reports?”

“No, but we can’t leave it to chance.”

Rey screwed her eyes shut. Ben would have torn every hovel in Mos Eisley apart if he had thought any of their younglings had been taken by the Sith. It would have been a glorious slaughter, and the streets would have been awash with blood. The town would have needed generations to recover from it, but one way or another, Ben Solo would have found those girls. Anyone who’d had the audacity to touch what was theirs would have suffered indescribable torture. Ben wouldn’t have been standing here asking for permission. It would have already been done.

“I wish Ben were here,” Rey sighed.

“I’m going.” Oreth turned away in disgust. “At least pull yourself together to guard the rest of the younglings.”

Suddenly, there was a great flare within the Force, a presence she hadn’t felt since Ben Solo had perished at her side. It was speeding towards them, and beside it, two smaller flames roaring with triumph. 

She smiled up at Oreth. “There’s no need. They are coming home. They are all coming home.”

* * *

“Are you ready, Master?”

Ben smiled down at his padawan. “I’ll be there in a minute. Get the rest of the younglings ready. I need to say goodbye.”

His heart squeezed as he watched her crossing the training yard. When Zuulyn and Litef had dragged him back into this place, he had been broken nearly beyond recognition. He still wore the filthy First Order tunic and pants he’d gone to Exegol in, empty handed but ablaze with the Force and his love for Rey. Expulsed from of the Hall of Echoes, the bowels of the Force had rematerialized Ben just as he had left the human realm, with countless smashed bones and near total organ failure. It had taken Rey and Oreth days to put the pieces of him back together.

Oreth caught Ben’s eye and warily made his way across the training yard. After Rey’s decision had been made, Ben had been unable to even look at Oreth, little lone speak to him.

“Master Solo.”

“Master See.”

“I trust you have everything you need for the journey to Takodana?”

He nodded. “Maz Kanata has agreed to give us sanctuary while we set up the temple there.”

“Do you think she will consent to be trained after all these years?”

Rey emerged from her quarters, and when she saw Ben speaking with Oreth, she smiled. Ben couldn’t take his eyes off her and continued distractedly, “I’ve never seen anyone who can deny Rey what she wants.” 

Ben looked at Oreth, and though he wanted to reach into the younger man’s mind and sift through the spiraling emotions there, he refrained. “I didn’t thank you—“

“Don’t.” Oreth’s gaze was suddenly barbed. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her. I did it for your Padawan and the younglings that need you.” He raised his chin and took a deep breath. “I did it for myself. I couldn’t continue watching her waste away without you.

“I hate it. I hate it with every fiber of my being, but I accept it, and that is the only way I can find peace with it. She was yours before I ever laid eyes on her. I think she was yours before she was even born.” He searched Ben’s face, and Ben was humbled by Ohren’s honesty and forgiveness. “Even without the dyad, I think she’d have loved you to her dying breath. You were meant to be together.”

Rey had nearly reached them, Litef trailing in her wake. In her current condition, Litef had become viciously protective. Only halfway through her pregnancy, Rey was more than capable of doing nearly anything she pleased, but Litef insisted on caring for Rey and Ben alike with a fierce devotion.

“Take care of them, won’t you?”

“With my life.”

Oreth nodded and sighed. For Rey’s sake he put on a smile and hugged her. “You’ll let me know when the younglings on Takodana are ready to learn the healing arts?”

She smiled. “Of course.”

Oreth nodded and turned away. Ben sensed he couldn’t bear to see them leave.

Rey cast one last look around the temple. “I’ll miss it. This is where everything began.”

“This is where Luke’s story began.” Ben took Rey in his arms and held her face in the depth of his palm. “Our story began on Takodana. It’s time we see what else the Force has planned for us.”


	11. Epilogue

“Ah, Skywalker. Missed you I have.”

Anakin smirked down at Master Yoda. “You never even liked me, Master.”

“Anakin Skywalker. Great peace I sense within you. Your destiny have you met. Balance in the Force you have truly restored,” He lifted his head and regarded young Anakin, “But to you, speaking I was not. Returned, the dyad has.”

Anakin turned and saw them, just as he remembered them. Ben Solo was once again in his padawan robes, the luster and innocence of youth restored to him. Beside him, as beautiful and strong as she had been in those youthful years when she had fought so hard against Kylo Ren, was his radiant wife. 

“Master Yoda. It is such a pleasure to meet you at last.”

Rey and Ben had knelt before Yoda. “Mine the pleasure is, young Master Skywalker. Through your sacrifice, secure the Jedi Order is.”

He turned his attention to Ben. “Tell you, did I not? Separated by death the dyad could not be.”

He bowed his head. “Yes, Master.”

“Together did you breathe your last breath.”

Rey and Ben shared a smile and answered together. “Yes, Master.”

“Hmph. Listen to me more often the Jedi should.” He shuffled down the corridor, leaving Anakin, Ben, and Rey to follow obediently in his wake. “A matter of great importance we must discuss. A matter in the Outer Reaches the dyad must attend to.”

Ben took Rey’s hands and lifted her beside him as he stood. Glancing at Anakin, he murmured, “We’ve only just arrived. Will it always be like this?”

Anakin’s eyes travelled over his beloved family. He was deeply pleased to see them, but it wouldn’t do for them to realize that. He smirked.

“I imagine Master Yoda has an infinite number of things for you to do, now that he has the power of a Force dyad at his disposal.” He held his hand out. “I suggest you get started.”

**Author's Note:**

> Deeply grateful for your comments!


End file.
